Collected Poems of John Holmes
Holmes, John A., Jr.
I will be the sleet against your window,
The cold. with sharp tooth biting at your hand.
I will be the sun that burns your forehead,
The sudden wind that moves you where you stand.
I'll swear aloud the vows you have forgotten,
And think no man except yourself could know.
Or singing in. the blood that so will quicken,
I'll wing your heels alone the way you go.
Or failing this, I'll cry to you in music,
So wild and lonely, or tender and so gay,
That at your throat will come again the trouble
That twists the heart and takes the breath away:
Only so that you marvel and. remember
That you were young, and cannot yet be old,
And still may not, so great and good a lover,
Let go the world, be blind, be deaf, be cold.