A Life
No intermediary in the passing night
Brought better news than what the heart revealed,
Sending from its furthest reaches news
Of bitter blood, infatuated calm
Or a tempest of delighted skin.
Thus at midnight, with the world beyond
Your fragmentary reach at goodnesses,
Silence then was best—you were just a guest
Of something larger than this sorrowing.
No use to reason why the crest of time
Has danced on you, then left a trampled rind.
You lived and knew the best, then left your life behind. Keep Reading