Having Lost My Sons, I Confront The Wreckage Of The Moon: Christmas, 1960 by James Wright - famous poem by James Wright
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Having Lost My Sons, I Confront The Wreckage Of The Moon: Christmas, 1960 by James Wright |
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After dark
Near the South Dakota border,
The moon is out hunting, everywhere,
Delivering fire,
And walking down hallways
Of a diamond.
Behind a tree,
It ights on the ruins
Of a white city
Frost, frost.
Where are they gone
Who lived there?
About the author:
James Wright
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