THAT was by the door <br />Leafy evening in the apple trees <br />And you would not forget this anymore <br />And even if you died there would be these <br />Touchings remembered <br />and you would return <br />From any bourne from any shore <br />To find the evening in these leaves <br />To find my arms beside this door... <br />I think O my not now Ophelia <br />There are not always (like a moon) <br />Rememberings afterward <br />(I think there are <br />Sometimes a few strange stars upon the sky.)<br /><br />Archibald MacLeish<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/broken-promise-12/
