Thursday, May 19, 2011

from "The Knife" by Keith Douglas

This I think happened to us together
though now no shadow of it flickers in your hands
your eyes look down on ordinary streets
If I talk to you I might be a bird
with a message, a dead man, a photograph.

*

This is the last stanza of five; a full text version appears here but it is not clear whether this is an authorized source.

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