Visiting Haworth, Bront
When I went up to Haworth there was peace
Between my teeth. An ordinary heart
Beat. My ordinary hands moved easily.
When I went up to Haworth there was peace
Between my teeth. An ordinary heart
Beat. My ordinary hands moved easily.
Crossing the land in a train, I passed through
the borderless townlets of sprawled New York
rising red brick out of nothing after
These good New Yorkers bent low over books
deserve a Paradise of softer chairs
and sleep, their heads against that fringed and white