Respite

For Robert Philen

Reginald Shepherd

A quick wind weeding the sky
when we step through the glass door,
clouds plucked and swept from sight

A full moon sets out repairing
the night, putting streetlights
in their proper place

The dandelions are foreigners
like me, some yellowed, some gone
to gray: all stragglers, late for sleep

And we have grown deciduous,
losing our leaves, letting down
our green and palmate

in preparations for December,
for this and for all year,
our naked branched evasions,

your fingers warming mine
If the world were an experiment,
you would still be waiting

几个星期前在barns&nobel的poetry杂志的封三页上以紫底黑字印着这首诗，并没有名字，只写了
Reginald Shepherd。很喜欢这首诗，记下来，回家想再读一下结果却没有从网上找到，意外地得知作者，这个叫Reginald Shepherd的非洲裔诗人就刚刚去世。

难怪在那么独立的一页以用了这种怀念的颜色。