The fire in leaf and grass
so green it seems
each summer the last summer.

The wind blowing, the leaves
shivering in the sun,
each day the last day.

A red salamander
so cold and so
easy to catch, dreamily

moves his delicate feet
and long tail. I hold
my hand open for him to go.

Each minute the last minute. 

Added: on May 22nd, 2005 at 11:35 AM | Viewed: 1910 times | Comments (1)

Poet: Denise Levertov
Poem: Living

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