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Poem by David Herbert Lawrence


Brooding Grief


A yellow leaf from the darkness
Hops like a frog before me.
Why should I start and stand still?

I was watching the woman that bore me
Stretched in the brindled darkness
Of the sick-room, rigid with will
To die: and the quick leaf tore me
Back to this rainy swill
Of leaves and lamps and traffic mingled before me. 



David Herbert Lawrence


David Herbert Lawrence's other poems:
  1. Week-Night Service
  2. Service of all the Dead
  3. Patience
  4. A Passing Bell
  5. Restlessness


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