Half my soul still breathes;
Half, breathless, flutters
About in the dark
In love or running
Wild among others,
Gone over the hill.
Deserters get shot:
Help me find her; she
Is out there somewhere
Now, one of those flakes
Of white on the waves
Which play with her as
With my straining eyes.
Did you enjoy the the artible “After Callimachus” from John Hollander on OZOFE.COM? Do you know anyone who could enjoy it as much as you do? If so, don't hesitate to share this post to them and your other beloved ones.
Leave a Reply