Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Poetry Wednesday


You are no forest.
Your light is clear and without breaks.

There is a game, but you play it
(I am learning to play simply, too)

And I smell evergreens
When I am near you, I can smell them;
Not from you, but
      with you

                                An impossible

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd something not-mine that I love:

The Mermaid
by William Butler Yeats

A mermaid found a swimming lad,
Picked him for her own,
Pressed her body to his body,
Laughed; and plunging down
Forgot in cruel happiness
That even lovers drown.

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