Poems by Gilbert Ruth
And There Shall be No More Death
... prophetic dinWhere, in this room, I stand and look on youAnd know you dead, yet cannot take death in ...
By Bread Alone
... rless to atoneWho only know that bread you break with meUpon my lips turns back, turns back to stone ...
The French Horn
... lyre, and harpSpeak, and the ear, the airAche with old wounds -- yet theseSpirit and flesh can bear ...
In Old Age
... This much is plain:Neither honey nor the honey-beeIs to be mine again. ...
Lot's Wife
... children, broken bread,Until God's angels, angry, visitedAll heaven's wrath upon its guiltless door ...
Still-born
... all my nights, and impotently IRock anguished arms, and try in vain to hush youWith stricken lullaby ...
