William F Dougherty
William F Dougherty Poems
Comments about William F Dougherty
Villanelle On A Proverb
The heart once broken is a heart no more.
—Edna St. Vincent Millay
The proverb says that time confers relief,
heals a crimson gash or knits whole a bone
and years unlock a knuckled fist of grief
that clenches emptiness in disbelief
to keep one's wits from being overthrown,
while time, the proverb says, confers relief
from cleaving wounds, paradoxical thief,
that also tears apart fused hearts grown
beyond the lock of knuckled-fisted grief,
half-hearts collapsed empty in unbelief
at finalities weighted by lids of stone,
while time, the...
The archived rite returns in gothic gray:
a bruise-dark sky, a blunt and tugging rain,
a sheen of black umbrellas, spaded clay.
The camera obscura, mind, ingrains
his father’s plot; and next, to seal her pain,
within three months, his mother’s sudden grave;
a delved dominion sears the turf again.
Nothing breaks the burlaped afternoon, save
when lightning cleaves the murk. Magnesium