Your Favorite Poems

Kätzchen · 05-19-2012, 06:51 PM

Encounter

We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn.
A red wing rose in the darkness.

And suddenly a hare ran across the road.
One of us pointed to it with his hand.

That was not long ago. Today, neither of them is alive,
Not the hare, nor the man who made the gesture.

O my love, where are they, where are they going,
The flash of a hand, streak of a movement, rustle of pebbles.
I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder.

-Cheslaw Milosz-

05-19-2012, 06:51 PM	#11
Kätzchen Member How Do You Identify?: Femme Preferred Pronoun?: She, please. Relationship Status: Attached to my granddaughter & chosen friends and family.. Join Date: May 2010 Location: Enjoying life @ home ツ Posts: 16,110 My Photo Gallery Thanks: 29,744 Thanked 33,534 Times in 10,656 Posts Rep Power: 21474868	Encounter We were riding through frozen fields in a wagon at dawn. A red wing rose in the darkness. And suddenly a hare ran across the road. One of us pointed to it with his hand. That was not long ago. Today, neither of them is alive, Not the hare, nor the man who made the gesture. O my love, where are they, where are they going, The flash of a hand, streak of a movement, rustle of pebbles. I ask not out of sorrow, but in wonder. -Cheslaw Milosz-