Virgil watched them Crossing the river away from him The fathers without their children Only a little while Was he smiling -Ly -Ily At Death the Golden Age Falling backwards In the Chinese restaurant The tiniest fireman I could see that he was smiling Plenty of children in Arcady without fathers Our friends long before sundown
Donald Revell - 1954-
A jet of mere phantom Is a brook, as the land around Turns rocky and hollow. Those airplane sounds Are the drowning of bicyclists. Leaping, a bridesmaid leaps. You asked for my autobiography. Imagine the greeny clicking sound Of hummingbirds in a dry wood, And there you’d have it. Other birds Pour over the walls now. I'd never suspected: every day, Although the nation is done for, I find new flowers.