I Shall Be Loved As Quiet Things

I shall be loved as quiet things
Are loved--white pigeons in the sun,
Curled yellow leaves that whisper down
One after one;

The silver reticence of smoke
That tells no secret of its birth
Among the fiery agonies
That turn the earth;

Cloud-islands; reaching arms of trees;
The frayed and eager little moon
That strays unheeded through a high
Blue afternoon.

The thunder of my heart must go
Under the muffling of the dust--
As my gray dress has guarded it
The grasses must;

For it has hammered loud enough,
Clamored enough, when all is said:
Only its quiet part shall live
When I am dead.

by Karle Wilson Baker

Comments (11)

What an utterly compelling poem! Beautiful, poignant and so full of rich meaning. Loved it! !
A lovely piece of heart rendered into words
Curled yellow leaves that fallen lie Hath a beauty of their own delight The pride of being once so high Shimmers in the dew of dying light….. Great poem by Karle.....
Curled yellow leaves that fallen lie Hath a beauty of their own delight The pride of being once so high Shimmers in the dew of dying light….. Great poem by Karle...
A delightful poem on the beauty of quietness, the challenge of passion and the silence of death. Deserves much more than a 6.1 IMO.
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