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. 

1. Sickness
2. Reproach
3. Willy Wet-Leg
4. Humming-Bird
5. A Baby Running Barefoot

Print

1480 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version