by Pierre Reverdy
Near the open road
And woods under the snow
A point that lifts the night
A lamp keeps watch
Upon the white face
the lowered eyelids
Upon the bare wall
the closed shutters
Ruts in the soil come together
The bridge nearer
And cubes all about
Shapes
Objects
The mystery of doors
We step across emotion barring the road
And without turning we continue onward
The house will not follow
The house is watching us
From between two trees
its red topknot
and white brow
Silence lingers
Last updated February 06, 2012