Friday, September 22, 2017

Fall 2017


Autumn Rain
The plane leaves

fall black and wet
on the lawn;

the cloud sheaves

in heaven’s fields set
droop and are drawn

in falling seeds of rain;

the seed of heaven
on my face

falling — I hear again

like echoes even
that softly pace

heaven’s muffled floor,

the winds that tread
out all the grain

of tears, the store

harvested
in the sheaves of pain

caught up aloft:

the sheaves of dead
men that are slain

now winnowed soft

on the floor of heaven;
manna invisible

of all the pain

here to us given;
finely divisible
falling as rain.


by DH Lawrence

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