A Love Letter to Daniel, in Death
My love is poignant in its pain:
knows neither temper nor restraint.
My flights of fancy, most unyielding,
still are flying, still are shielding
my unfirm and flighty mind
from the truth.
You were ever consolation;
In my unfirm and flighty mind,
you were good, you were kind,
all of this bespeaking
of my youth.
In the green and sunny dell,
I count the trees I knew so well,
all the branches 'round me whisp'ring,
to remind me I shall never
taste your fruit.
In the silence of the glen,
the lonely question echoes, "When?"
all the trees no longer growing
and around me it is snowing
as I kneel beside your tombstone.
It reads truth.
And the snow so softly falling,
all around me it is falling
in a rain of diamonds falling,
I am perpetually falling
But for my imagination,
eternal Death's damnation
will not claim you ere tomorrow-
so I stay my constant sorrow
So forever I am kneeling,
to your frozen corpse appealing,
"Who are you?
What is truth?'