A fly wounds the water but the wound
soon heals. Swallows tilt and twitter
overhead, dropping now and then toward
the outward-radiating evidence of food.
The green haze on the trees changes
into leaves, and what looks like smoke
floating over the neighbor’s barn
is only apple blossoms.
But sometimes what looks like disaster
is disaster: the day comes at last,
and the men struggle with the casket
just clearing the pews.
(Jane Kenyon)
More Poetry from Jane Kenyon:
Jane Kenyon Poems based on Topics: Water, Man, Nature, Food- Three Songs At The End Of Summer (Jane Kenyon Poems)
- Sun And Moon (Jane Kenyon Poems)
- Christmas Away From Home (Jane Kenyon Poems)
- Private Beach (Jane Kenyon Poems)
- Not Here (Jane Kenyon Poems)
- The Argument (Jane Kenyon Poems)