Wandering Muse

kvetchlandia:

Richard Avedon     Poet W. H. Auden, St. Marks Place, New York City     1960

   Now the leaves are falling fast,
   Nurse’s flowers will not last;
   Nurses to the graves are gone,
   And the prams go rolling on.

   Whispering neighbours, left and right,
   Pluck us from the real delight;
   And the active hands must freeze
   Lonely on the separate knees.

   Dead in hundreds at the back
   Follow wooden in our track,
   Arms raised stiffly to reprove
   In false attitudes of love.

   Starving through the leafless wood
   Trolls run scolding for their food;
   And the nightingale is dumb,
   And the angel will not come.

   Cold, impossible, ahead
   Lifts the mountain’s lovely head
   Whose white waterfall could bless
   Travelers in their last distress.

– W. H. Auden, “Autumn Song”  1936

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prideknights:

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