COME up, thou red thing.
Come up, and be called a moon.
The mosquitoes are biting to-night
Like memories.
Memories, northern memories,
Bitter-stinging white world that bore us
Subsiding into this night.
Call it moonrise
This red anathema?
Rise, thou red thing,
Unfold slowly upwards, blood-dark;
Burst the night’s membrane of tranquil stars
Finally.
Maculate
The red Macula.
(D H Lawrence)
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Based on Topics: Night Poems, Memory PoemsBased on Keywords: moonrise, subsiding, mosquitoes, membrane, anathema, maculate, blood-dark, macula