As posted on Facebook last night: Seven days of poems/music begins on my blog tomorrow. Not necessarily directly related to my brother’s death, but part of my dealing with that — for me — significant marker in my own life.
Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889)
to a Young Child
Margaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you will weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow’s springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What héart héard of, ghóst guéssed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.
Early 1940s, Auburn Street Sutherland.