November 15th 1946-December 2nd 2005
"Little Sleep's-Head Sprouting Hair In The Moonlight"
by Galway Kinnell
1
You scream, waking from a nightmare.
When I sleepwalk
into your room, and pick you up,
and hold you up in the moonlight, you cling to me
hard,
as if clinging could save us. I think
you think
I will never die, I think I exude
to you the permanence of smoke or stars,
even as
my broken arms heal themselves around you.
To read the remainder of the poem, click here.
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