Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Two Poems to the Beloved
You have forgotten everything.
When the secret of secrets
unveils,
how can you find words?
You have forgotten
everything,
except the shape
of the beloved’s
face,
the touch of the
beloved’s kiss.
Dorothy Walters
November 12, 2007
Who Can Say?
There is a turning inward.
Who can say,
describe
the rapture of the
blood?
What was once your beloved,
there, waiting for you,
so slender and pale,
now has no form
or name,
is only “the one,”
your secret of secrets.
Dorothy Walters
November 9, 2007
