Tuesday, September 7, 2010

Poem Fragment, by Wilfred Owen

I saw his round mouth's crimson deepen as it fell,
     Like a Sun, in his last deep hour;
Watched the magnificent recession of farewell,
     Clouding, half gleam, half glower,
And a last splendour burn the heavens of his cheek.
     And in his eyes
The cold stars lighting, very old and bleak,
     In different skies.


No comments:

Post a Comment