And so like a ghost able to break through
but unable to remain,
I saw you in that other place we knew—
before the rain,

wind and thunder and certain elements
that I cannot name or know
just weathered up in their dark translucence—
that’s how we go:

divided from the one beloved face
still visible through the cloud.
I would stay with you in that other place—
if wind allowed.

A Message from the Editors

Your donation sustains our efforts to inspire joyous rediscoveries.

This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 29 Number 4, on page 36
Copyright © 2024 The New Criterion |