He is there, somewhere . . . high up over the pass We must travel in air thinner than spirit, Bloodless, structure of cold fog. His rifle Gleams. He waits as we cross the ridge. Son, you will see him Sometimes: at the foot of the bed, grieving, A wavering presence in your fever-dream. Or seeming to grieve. Wearing the mask of your father. 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...THE PLANTATION CHILD'S LULLABY by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR WORDLY WISE (5) by MOTHER GOOSE LINES WRITTEN ON HEARING THE NEWS OF THE DEATH OF NAPOLEON by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY CAPITAL SQUARE by PATRICK JOHN MCALISTER ANDERSON EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 20. EVER PRESENT by PHILIP AYRES PROLOGUE FOR MR. WOODS by ROBERT BURNS |