"haulm" poems
Bring, in this timeless grave to throw,
No cypress, sombre on the snow;
Snap not from the bitter yew
His leaves that live December through;
Break no rosemary, bright with rime
And sparkling to the cruel clime;
Nor plod the winter land to look
For willows in the icy brook
To cast them leafless round him: bring
No spray that ever buds in spring.
But if the Christmas field has kept
Awns the last gleaner overstept,
Or shrivelled flax, whose flower is blue
A single season, never two;
Or if one haulm whose year is o'er
Shivers on the upland frore,
--Oh, bring from hill and stream and plain
Whatever will not flower again,
To give him comfort: he and those
Shall bide eternal bedfellows
Where low upon the couch he lies
Whence he never shall arise.
1.9k
embroiled snow of solitude, a meadow of coldness
where all the vivacious beings have died down
tearing down blizzards embellished decaying soil
with delicate fleecy fluff fallen down from the sky
collected trees with no leaf, coated with white fuzz
howbeit strong, keeping their thin stalks to an end
years by years, the trees fastened to each other closer
holding what is left, leaving what is now behind
they started to get weaker whenever getting too close
touching their haulm with another's haulm breaks them
and the tangled roots started to unravel themselves
with one another, they became really weak alone
in the end of the world where everything has been buried
only two trees have been left apart on a tiny ground
without holding each other's fangs, they lived together
happily, until each of them slowly progressed to vanish
Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 4:05 PM UTC