Strange to me the sounds the wind that blows By the masthead in the lonely night. Maybe 'tis the sea whistling--feigning joy To hide its fright Like a village boy That, shivering, past the churchyard goes.
I think the whole reason I bothered paying any attention to Hulme in the first place--before I started understand what he was doing--was because they're so short and sweet! That and there's a certain hypnotic quality to the loose cadence of his lines.
love it. my kind of poem.
ReplyDeleteI think the whole reason I bothered paying any attention to Hulme in the first place--before I started understand what he was doing--was because they're so short and sweet! That and there's a certain hypnotic quality to the loose cadence of his lines.
ReplyDelete