Heart's Needle (extract)
Child, of my winter, born
When the new fallen soldiers froze
In Asia's steep ravines and fouled the
snows,
When I was torn
By love I could not still,
By fear that silenced my cramped mind
To that cold war where, lost, I could not
find
My peace in my will.
Autumn Variations (extract)
The evening grosbeak, on the the lawn
Will turn his back on us, move on
With his wide family and those friends
We thought were ours. That's how it ends.
If it's been good, be glad it's been;
It won't be. The cold shoulder's in.
We must make do, once summer's done,
With our fair-weather friends, or none.
As A Child, Sleepless (extract)
The ''possum under the owl's claw,
The wet fawn, huddled in the grass,
The soldier, hurt, in his lost trench
Clench the eyelid, clutch the breath
Till scaengers, till coupe de grace,
Death and the lurking terror pass.
Pacemaker (extract)
Old coots, at the Veterans', might catch
breath
If their cheeks got slapped by a
nurse's aide,
Then come back to life, just so, at their
birth,
Young rumps had been tendered
warm accolades.
The kick-ass rude attitude, smart-assed
insult,
The acid-fueled book review just
might shock
Us back to the brawl like smelling salts,
Might sting the lulled heart up off its
blocks.
- W.D. Snodgrass
