Stand there on the rock of the mountain top you man with a beard so soon white-shot you woman with pity as old as the wars you child with eyes as young as the stars behold this wind southwestern sprung that wrenches the desert all month long that blows out your pity and blows out your eyes and bleaches your beard like the noon moonrise behold the sand the burning cloud blown on the desert like ash like gold behold each other your tender bones strung in the wind so long from home then go down plunge to the purge of sand vanish together hand in hand Used with the permission of Copper Canyon Press, P.O. Box 271, Port Townsend, WA 98368-0271, www.cc.press.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BUCOLIC COMEDY: EARLY SPRING by EDITH SITWELL TIGER LILIES by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 33. AL-HALIM by EDWIN ARNOLD BABEL: THE GATE OF GOD by GORDON BOTTOMLEY THE CAPTAIN by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD THE WANDERER: 1. IN ITALY: NEWS by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON VERSES ON CLERGY PREACHING POLITICS by JOHN BYROM ON A DISTANT VIEW OF THE VILLAGE AND SCHOOL OF HARROW by GEORGE GORDON BYRON |