There ought not be a sight as sad
As just-set sun in winter.
Glow is weak upon the land
And darkness now indicative futures
Will enter, come, will be,
Will seek her paths like spreading water
Into every minute fissure
To the very cross paths of our garden
Where the sadness grows
And cultivate her glory
Under cover efficacious
Of the deepened darkness.
There she looses legion pollen,
Spores persistent what will thrive
Upon our fertile earth,
And germinate they will and flower,
Nourished by the tenebrae.
And we with dawn
Will find ourselves once more,
Amidst her flowers.
Blossoms without perfume.
There ought not be a sight as sad
As just-set sun in winter.
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As you already know, Ben died on Good Friday, April 6, 2012. I came home from the hospital and feverishly looked for any scrap of paper with a note to us. Instead I eventually found a loose leaf notebook with a treasure of poems he had left for us... never read by anyone else before. I share this one with you
with love, annie
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I just wrote these remarks on face book and want to add them here.
Winter was Ben's least favorite time of the year and just-set-sun was the time of day he hated. Yet I think this is one of his most beautiful poems. Every time I think of him quietly, privately heart-writing these poems just to leave to his family, I am overwhelmed with love.
Thank you, Ben, you were one of a kind, for sure!!
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One more thing to add: I have published quite a few of Ben's poems and photos of paintings...and I think he would say, "Enough is enough!! Knock it off for awhile." So if you don't see any more poems for a few months...I am letting the poem book have a rest...maybe at a later time. Love, annie in memphis
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Ben around 21. 1956.
A good likeness...so beautiful to me.
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