(for Lou)
We know, as lovers, the sun has many wings,
poem, April, time and light.
You fold into a touch what I saw strowing
all to be too crushed to love or plight
and yet no star is so outspread
as what you open faith and stone
what
last was cold I clutch instead
the light
and power that is your own
to
every stint, for I've everything
that
havens make and all that’s good to me,
our simple
nights of homemaking,
to
hold and be the love we want to be
so
close I feel the time entire
when
any moment I reach out of the fire.
~William Frank
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