Crouched in the verging shadow of a wood Where night has come in penance to the sky (Erasing with majestic wish Harsh acts witnessed in its brighter moods), 5 And scarred beyond the recognition of a dream I call in confusion for departed faces, Lovers and mothers who beneath the grass Their unquiet keep. Call among dead spaces For whatever whisper may answer me at last. 10 And when I shall to heaven go, will it be With warm ghosts to welcome me?
From the collection "Miscellany"
Written by Gregg Glory [Gregg G. Brown]
More information available on gregglory.com.