Good morning, -- I greet you when you open the door and with my greeting the smell of elderberry and of thyme and of a hundred herbs pours into your room. Look, the guests of the new day, -- I'd go on playfully waking you in the luster above the doorstep, but I can see: on the green screen of your eyes your dreams are still staggering: a horse carriage in Sarajevo, loaded with corpses and a walking, burning candle following the carriage. It sends cold shivers down my back: it's only who I dream such stageable horrors like an ocean satiated with shipwrecked corpses. Can it be that we are also sharing our dreams, like our legs, our hands? and we slip into each other's depths swimming, floating, with closed eyes, with nerves stripped to the skin ? First published in @3The Kenyon Review@1, Volume 22, #1, Winter 2000. www.kenyonreview.org | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PITY OF IT by THOMAS HARDY TO THE WATER NYMPHS DRINKING AT THE FOUNTAIN by ROBERT HERRICK UPON THE DEATH OF MY EVER CONSTANT FRIEND DOCTOR DONNE, DEAN OF PAUL'S by HENRY KING (1592-1669) SONGS OF TRAVEL: 2. YOUTH AND LOVE: 1 by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE LONG AGO by BENJAMIN FRANKLIN TAYLOR THE NOTHING REDEMPTION by BRUCE WEIGL PATROLING BARNEGAT by WALT WHITMAN THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 2. DIET by JOHN ARMSTRONG |