Classic Poem

This night is a bitter cry for you
it is a dark cry for you
held hollow to your ear in the cavern of my heart
Dark and impenetrable as the wings of deep valleys
my blood is a long lament for you
The dry twigs of the winter willow
rub their lean bones against the glass

Orion fades like the white heel of a runner
and my anguish is as bitter as almond rind
My hands in the underbrush of my sorrow
like children seek the new vines of arbutus
that run in winter like music under the leaves

Here is the sweet wine of my knees to be poured for you
my temples are hollow bowls for the fruit of your mouth
The waves of the sea pace the shore and bemoan you
They cry out and wring their white hands in anguish
Stir in me cool as the pulse of the wind
lie in my veins and chill and chill me
Until the blood runs cold through my heart