Lesbia Harford

* * *

I went down to post a letter
Through the garden, through the garden.
All the lovely stars were shining
As I went.
They were free as I, unhappy
Only he to whom the letter
Must be sent.
Even stars forget the prisons,
Stars and clouds and moonlit waters,
I believe the wind would shun them
If it could.
He at least rebels, remembers
Dawn breaks eastward, where the prisons
Erstwhile stood.