Winter 1944 • Vol. VI No. 1 PoetryJanuary 1, 1944 |

Litany

Among the skeletons of sun where the yellow lions run goes one in a diamond color, tears on his antique shoulder. He walks in a sea of salt with intention to exalt; to scatter the green miles with blessings of exile. Even as I to his lion's side will fly, or with feathery fastness to his feast, as birds surround a glistening wound; my body endangering the moment of his angelling. The most amiable and best belovéd host. Of these he is my God longest, and shall be last lost and last blessed.

Already have an account? Login

Join KR for even more to read.

Register for a free account to read five free pieces a month from our current issue and digital archive.
Register for Free and Read This Piece



Or become a subscriber today and get complete, immediate access to our digital archives at every subscription level.

Read More

Two Poems

By Robert Horan

Among the skeletons of sun where the yellow lions run goes one in a diamond color, tears on his antique shoulder. He walks in a sea of salt with intention […]

Twenty-One Years

By Robert Horan

Among the skeletons of sun where the yellow lions run goes one in a diamond color, tears on his antique shoulder. He walks in a sea of salt with intention […]

Subscribe

Your free registration with Kenyon review incudes access to exclusive content, early access to program registration, and more.

Donate

With your support, we’ll continue 
to cultivate talent and publish extraordinary literature from diverse voices around the world.