The mist creeps over the hard grey stone,
My girl’s in Tungria; I sleep alone.
Categories: Poetry
Tagged: history, homesickness, military, W. H. Auden
The mist creeps over the hard grey stone,
My girl’s in Tungria; I sleep alone.
Categories: Poetry
Tagged: history, homesickness, military, W. H. Auden
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest…
Categories: Poetry
Tagged: love poetry, mourning, requiem, W. H. Auden
Waiting for Icarus 1
He said he would be back and we’d drink wine together
He said that everything would be better than before
Categories: Poetry
Tagged: conversational, gender, Muriel Rukeyser, mythology, social commentary, unsettling