Summer 1955 • Vol. XVII No. 3 Poetry |

Looking up Again and Again while Walking

1. Was ever blue such undespairing blue? Familiar sweep of perfect careless brows: What else but she, translated into sky? One summer I had a sister used to tilt Her head a little in a haze of ease, Without a wish, like that blue sleep up there. 2. Was ever sky such haste—dissolving sky? Just be (she hinted), be; don't wake, don't wish. Her peace, too light a gift to seem redemption—Like dewfall, uninsistent—shimmered twice: From brows of flesh at first and then of air. To her own self enough; yet more, yet more. 3. My sister moved where words stopped short, recording But this: there stones in any ditch have wings, There weight combs back like clouds, there will lets go. I used to try to sing her to my clay; She used to try to pray me to her sky; Then dawns and wishes bustled loud between. 4. And now no longer? Passage through? This morning My vision shakes like awe that has no object, Feeling a new and nameless cycle near. No blaze—God, God, I beg—no blaze for

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By Peter Viereck

1. Was ever blue such undespairing blue? Familiar sweep of perfect careless brows: What else but she, translated into sky? One summer I had a sister used to tilt Her […]

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