To One Dead 1 Poem by Maxwell Bodenheim

To One Dead 1



Shaking nights, noons tame and dust-quiet, and wind-broken days
Were hands modelling your face.
Yet people glanced at you and pass on.

And now they speak of you,
Quickly weighing tiny, stray chips of you:
They who did not know you.

Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: death
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Maxwell Bodenheim

Maxwell Bodenheim

Mississippi / United States
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