Dreams Underfoot: UnquietDreams' Dark Whimsy

Haven't posted one of these in a bit. I love and relate to the aspirations.

"I Want to Write a Poem," Rudy Francisco

 
I do not love you now,
Nor do you love me,
Love like a splendid storm
Swept us and passed.

Yet while the distance
And days drift between us,
Little things linger
To make me remember,

As the rain's fragrance
Clings when the rain goes
To the wet under leaves
Of the verbena,

As the clear rain-drops
Cling to the cobwebs,
Leaving them lightly
Threaded with stars.

"Afterward"
--Sarah Teasdale.

Sincere thanks to @summer_reine for making me look for another Teasdale poem. I love her work, and though she won a Pulitzer Prize for her collection Love Songs she doesn't seem to get much respect from modern readers. But oak and ash, the imagery in that last stanza is perfection.

I read her when I am looking to wallow in cynicism, and she partners well with Dorothy Parker for me. She married for stability rather than the love of her life, and ended hers far, far too soon.
 
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Ooh the third part, stanza is it? I could smell that as I read. I will have to read more of her work, thank you for making it more than a pretty post on a pretty page for me.
 
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