We open our mouths and the seasons change, screech owls lifting mice into the sky those starless hours when schools of fish are darting under windows made of ice. Oh Christ in the chords of an old harmonica held up to a child's mouth, a solemn hymn whose words we dare not sing. 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...NEW YEAR'S DAWN - BROADWAY by SARA TEASDALE A WOMAN'S SHORTCOMINGS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING COWSLIPS AND LARKS by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES HIS CONTENT IN THE COUNTRY by ROBERT HERRICK EARLY RISING by JOHN GODFREY SAXE THE EARLY PRIMROSE by HENRY KIRKE WHITE |