Today's poem is by Isaac Rosenberg
Returning, We Hear the Larks
Sombre the night is.
And thought we have our lives, we know
What sinister threat lurks there.
Dragging these anguished limbs, we only know
This poison-blasted track opens on our camp
On a little safe sleep.
But hark! joy joy strange joy.
Lo! heights of night ringing with unseen larks.
Music showering our upturned list'ning faces.
Death could drop from the dark
As easily as song
But song only dropped,
Like a blind man's dreams on the sand
By dangerous tides,
Like a girl's dark hair for she dreams no ruin lies there,
Or her kisses where a serpent hides.
Copyright © 2004 Isaac Rosenberg All rights reserved
from Selected Poems and Letters
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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