Poems Rethabile Likes

A History of Mourning by Robert Bly | Poems Rethabile Likes A History of Mourning by Robert Bly It's odd that evening is so speckled with grief. Birds start singing when the branch reddens. But we write our poems when the sun goes down. Our ancestors knew how to cry at death; but they Had enough to do finding big stones to cover The dead, and begetting new souls to replace them. We slept on the limestone plains, and woke Night after night, tracing the route the dead take Through holes in limestone and on into the stars. Some hands outlined with blown powder On the walls of the cave have missing fingers. ...