Monday, April 7, 2008

Poem by David Young

March 10, 2001

by David Young

Three crisscrossed daffodils
faint lamps in the rubble

where without any warning
I'm shattered by your absence

wondering will I always
blunder into this emotion

so large and mute it has no name
—not grief longing pain

for those are only its suburbs
its slightly distracting cousins—

summoned just now by these
frilled blossoms

butter yellow horns
on lemon yellow stars

indifferent innocent
charging in place

advance guard of a season
when I will join you.

1 comment:

calm said...

Do tears return as flowers? My eyes are filled . . . guess that means I liked this, a LOT!