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Song for Dead Children

December 7, 2018 by chris

Originally published in Theory of Flight (1935)

We set great wreaths of brightness on the graves of the passionate
who required tribute of hot July flowers    :
for you, O brittle-hearted, we bring offering
remembering how your wrists were thin and your delicate bones
not yet braced for conquering.

The sharp cries of ghost-boys are keen above the meadows,
the little girls continue graceful and wondering;
flickering evening on the lakes recalls those young
heirs whose developing years have sunk to earth
their strength not tested, their praise unsung.

Weave grasses for their childhood:     :     who will never see
love or disaster or take sides against decay
balancing the choices of maturity;
silent and coffin’d in silence while we pass
loud in defiance of death, the helpless lie.
 
 

(c) Muriel Rukeyser

Filed Under: Poetry, Writings

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