Emily states,
Afraid! Of whom am I afraid?
I respond,
The brave; their sacrificial grave.

Wordsworth asks,
Who drag, beneath our native skies?
I whisper,
A chain with links of leader’s lies.

Joyce quips,
What counsel has the hooded moon?
I cry,
To hide, to hide, our silver spoons.

William wonders,
Where art thou Muse that thou forget’st so long?
I frown,
In mine heart, in blackened cells of lovers lost.

Blake demands,
‘O Earth, O Earth, return!
I pray,
Let roses rise from ashes burned.

And finally, Poe ponders,

Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

And finally, I pen,

In darkest sleep we dream of dreams
Of living free of dreams in beams
But in the light of see and seem
A dream still sleeps within a dream.

A conversation with the dead.


5 thoughts on “Conversations

  1. What an incredible way to begin my day of poetry. The S&G song is so good…I love listening to their lyrics. And your poem plumbs the driving force behind some of our greatest poets. This is just perfect, Henry. Thank you so much.

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