Poem Hunter
Poems
Something So Fine
SF (February,4,1937 / W. Columbia, WV, USA)

Something So Fine

Poem By Sandra Fowler

You must not look at me in failing light.
The measure of the moment is too bright.
The cold, gold sunset hurts my eyes tonight.

I will not listen to those panes of gray.
Touch was so articulate that day
The smoke of ironweed warmed resolve away.

Your West Virginia face was poetry.
I loved the hollows of its symmetry
Too much to know it could not shelter me.

There was something so fine about that hill,
Your old house standing bravely up to chill,
While white wind heaped dead leaves upon the sill.

Close your gray eyes the meaning is too plain.
They sing me Wednesday like an old refrain,
But sun will not stand still for that again.

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Comments (18)

Your West Virginia face was poetry. I loved the hollows of its symmetry Too much to know it could not shelter me. Particularly this, and all other stanzas, create a melancholic symphony by touching the (I do not know which) cords of the heart! A soft music that plays on and on even when one is done with the reading part.
An emotional write cloaked in sadness...beautifully written Sandra
words..painfully dear to you and me.........
the pain of letting go of something so fine, so beautiful... the anguish is searing....
Wistful sadness encapsulated here Sandra - - it is painfully beautiful - - thank you dear friend........... greetings from Fay....xx


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