Caught still as Absalom, Surely the air hangs From the swayless cloud-boughs Like hair of Absalom Caught and hanging still. From the imagined weight Of spaces in a sky Of mute chagrin my thoughts Hang like branch-clung hair To trunks of silence swung, With the choked soul weighing down Into thick emptiness. Christ, end this hanging death, For endlessness hangs therefrom! Invisibly branches break From invisible trees: The cloud-woods where we rush (Our eyes holding so much), Which we must ride dim ages round Ere the hands (we dream) can touch, We ride, we ride -- before the morning The secret roots of the sun to tread -- And suddenly We are lifted of all we know, And hang from implacable boughs. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPECIAL EFFECTS by JAMES GALVIN DEAD LEAVES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE POET SPEAKS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON BALLROOM DARK by CLARENCE MAJOR ADELAIDE AND JOHN WILKES BOOTH by EDGAR LEE MASTERS DOMESDAY BOOK: THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |