After the Dinner PartyBy Robert Penn Warren You two sit at the table late, each, now and then,Twirling a near-empty wine glass to watch the last redLiquid climb up the crystalline spin to the last moment whenCentrifugality fails: with nothing now said. What is left to say when the last…
Tag: Robert Penn Warren
Poetry, Prose & Prayer
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Masts at Dawn
Masts at Dawn By Robert Penn Warren Past second cock-crow yacht masts in the harbor go slowly white. No light in the east yet, but the stars show a certain fatigue. They withdraw into a new distance, have discovered our unworthiness. It is long since The owl, in the dark…