So the light falls, and so it fell <br />on branched leaved with flocking birds. <br />Loght stole a citys weight to swell <br />the coloured lofe of stone. Your words <br />hung weightless in my ear: Remember me. <br /> <br />All words except those words were drowned <br />in the fresh babbling rush of spring. <br />In summer's dream-filled light one sound <br />echoed through all the whispering <br />galleries of green: Remember me. <br /> <br />Rods of light point home the flocking <br />starlings to wintry trees, and turn <br />stone into golden ochre, locking <br />the orbit of my pain. I learn <br />the weight of light and stone. Remember me.<br /><br />Gwen Harwood<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/anniversary-22/
