HARPER’S TUNE
The sad harper’s tune
lays a bare hand upon the tree
among the moon
and all the roadside leading there
is white and even and very bare.
I have come calling and courting
there
out in the courtyard with the
rickety tree
and the lastless leaves that lie
on and move past my feet as my
moving feet pass by.
This square is all alone in the
white square:
the very strong well of the frost
building fair
passions and pictures in my
catching hair
in the hoary windless moonlight.
My love has never been here or
there
Nor will she ever be here ever
soon.
St-Lambert, circa 1982.
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