The gangling legs are absent; nothing whitens The deep blue surface curling there And never breaking. A stiffening face Turned mask-like and muscle-stricken frightens 5 White birds that pern in whiter air. Riotous cries cannot give its tossing countenance a place; Blotched reds that crust the desert water Until all color cakes and lies motionless, falters. What but attitude of all man in a rage 10 Can reverse a death's complacency and kick Up foam? Agony of living lonely as a bird Between sun and moon, moving like a spade, Empties the ragged features, the dull wickless eyes That looked on nothing common, commonly interred. A bird- 15 Like woman lingers on the quay's interrupted sounds To witness drowning sailors, her head in beauty bound.
From the collection "Burning Byzantium"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.