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by D. H. Lawrence, 1916

Since i lost you, my darling, the sky has come near,
And i am of it, the small sharp stars are quite near,
The white moon going among them like a white bird among snow-berries,
And the sound of her gently rustling in heaven like a bird I hear.

And i am willing to come to you now, my dear,
As a pigeon lets itself off from a cathedral dome
To be lost in the haze of the sky, I would like to come,
And be lost out of sight with you, and be gone like foam.

For i am tired, my dear, and if I could lift my feet,
My tenacious feet from off the dome of the earth
To fall like a breath within the breathing wind
Where you are lost, what rest, my love, what rest!

Published in Amores
Tags: heartache, loneliness, loss, love, night, sadness

Any corrections or public domain poems I should have here? Email me at poems (at) this domain.