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W.S. Merwin

Every year without knowing it I have passed the day When the last fires will wave to me And the silence will set out Tireless traveler Like the beam of a lightless star — W.S. Merwin, from “For the Anniversary of My Death,” The Second Four Books of Poems (Copper Canyon Press, 1993)

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American Culture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Poetry

W.S. Merwin

Be of this brightness dyed Whose unrecking fever Flings gold before it goes Into voids finally That have no measure. Bird-sleep moonset, Island after island, Be of their hush On this tide that balance A time, for a time. Islands are not forever, Nor this light again, Tide-set, brief summer, Be of their secret That… Continue reading W.S. Merwin

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