Today the sunlight
on the rough trunks of birches
now stripped of their leaves.
In a Holy Son-
net Donne rhymes ‘ravished’
and ‘dead.’ Anne Donne dead
turns him heavenward.
The morning sun on the white
bark of the birches.
Glosses on texts by William Desmond
Today the sunlight
on the rough trunks of birches
now stripped of their leaves.
In a Holy Son-
net Donne rhymes ‘ravished’
and ‘dead.’ Anne Donne dead
turns him heavenward.
The morning sun on the white
bark of the birches.