My Friends Poem by William Stanley Merwin
My Friends
My friends without shields walk on the target
It is late the windows are breaking
My friends without shoes leave
What they love
Grief moves among them as a fire among
Its bells
My friends without clocks turn
On the dial they turn
They part
My friends with names like gloves set out
Bare handed as they have lived
And nobody knows them
It is they that lay the wreaths at the milestones it is their
Cups that are found at the wells
And are then chained up
My friends without feet sit by the wall
Nodding to the lame orchestra
Brotherhood it says on the decorations
My friend without eyes sits in the rain smiling
With a nest of salt in his hand
My friends without fathers or houses hear
Doors opening in the darkness
Whose halls announce
Behold the smoke has come home
My friends and I have in common
The present a wax bell in a wax belfry
This message telling of
Metals this
Hunger for the sake of hunger this owl in the heart
And these hands one
For asking one for applause
My friends with nothing leave it behind
In a box
My friends without keys go out from the jails it is night
They take the same road they miss
Each other they invent the same banner in the dark
They ask their way only of sentries too proud to breathe
At dawn the stars on their flag will vanish
The water will turn up their footprints and the day will rise
Like a monument to my
Friends the forgotten
A beautiful narrative of the attributes of friends, in general. Thanks for sharing.
This is such a touching piece of poetry. Thanks for sharing.Like to read again and again.
My friends without fathers or houses hear Doors opening in the darkness Whose halls announce Nice work.Thanks for sharing it with us.
My friends without shoes leave What they love Grief moves among them as a fire among Its bells My friends without clocks turn the dials that turn. a fine poem. tony
I like particularly repetition of 'my friends', who have undergone various misfortunes. 'My friends with nothing'.
At dawn the stars on their flag will vanish The water will turn up their footprints and the day will rise Like a monument to my Friends the forgotten - - - - - - - - - - - -Perhaps the poet gives tribute to forgotten heroes of a war who lost every thing, legs, eyes or lives for the country or people.Now they are forgotten, but time will one day tell their stories.
A different consideration of what kind of friends you can have. M.Walker.
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9/9/2024 5:53:07 AM # 1.0.0.1119
At the line 'My friends with nothing leave it behind in a box, ' your poem captured me.