Poem-a-Day

Poem-a-day

^{—after Akhmadulina}

Untitled Document

Some things you don’t come back from.
The body carries on. Of late
it even travels, basks in light.
But knock and there’s no one home.

(How did I love you? With the taste
of iron on my tongue. Try again.
How did I love you? Like a man
destroying what he tries to save.)

The head still does light labor.
But often both the hands fall slack,
and all five senses, in a flock,
go south to weather winter.

Geoffrey Brock

Previous Poems

Title	Author	Date
In the Mountains on a Summer Day	Li Bai	07/24/2011
Tempest, Act V, Scene I [Where the bee sucks, there suck I]	William Shakespeare	07/23/2011
Summer Images	John Clare	07/23/2011
October 14—The Dow Closes Up 10015	Susan Briante	07/22/2011
Trigger Guard	Joanna Fuhrman	07/21/2011
Proclamation	Stuart Dischell	07/20/2011
The Bottom	Denise Duhamel	07/19/2011
The Pressure of the Moment	Dara Barrois/Dixon	07/18/2011
Paradise Lost, Book IV, Lines 639–652	John Milton	07/17/2011
Lines Composed a Few Miles above Tintern Abbey, on Revisiting the Banks of the Wye During a Tour, July 13, 1798	William Wordsworth	07/16/2011

Title

Author

Date

Li Bai

07/24/2011