832. Memory, by Theodore Roethke


           In the slow world of dream,
           We breathe in unison.
           The outside dies within,
           And she knows all I am.


           She turns, as if to go,
           Half-bird, half-animal.
           The wind dies on the hill.
           Love's all. Love's all I know.


           A doe drinks by a stream,
           A doe and its fawn.
           When I follow after them,
           The grass changes to stone.

Source: The Collected Poems of Theodore Roethke

No comments:

Post a Comment