The Taxi
When I go away from you
The world beats dead
Like a slackened drum.
I call out for you against the jutted stars
And shout into the ridges of the wind.
Streets coming fast,
One after the other,
Wedge you away from me,
And the lamps of the city prick my eyes
So that I can no longer see your face.
Why should I leave you,
To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?
-- Amy Lowell (1874-1925)
Amy Lowell - incredibly underappreciated. Thanks for this.
Posted by: Don | August 29, 2009 at 05:00 PM
I love this.
Posted by: erika moya | August 30, 2009 at 04:17 PM