My Friends

W. S. MerwinW. S. Merwin

1 min read · 12.4K reads

My friends without shields walk on the targetIt is late the windows are breakingMy friends without shoes leave
What they love
Grief moves among them as a fire among
Its bells
My friends without clocks turn
On the dial they turn
They partMy friends with names like gloves set out
Bare handed as they have lived
And nobody knows them
It is they that lay the wreaths at the milestones it is their
Cups that are found at the wells
And are then chained upMy friends without feet sit by the wall
Nodding to the lame orchestra
Brotherhood it says on the decorations
My friend without eyes sits in the rain smiling
With a nest of salt in his handMy friends without fathers or houses hear
Doors opening in the darkness
Whose halls announceBehold the smoke has come homeMy friends and I have in common
The present a wax bell in a wax belfry
This message telling of
Metals this
Hunger for the sake of hunger this owl in the heart
And these hands one
For asking one for applauseMy friends with nothing leave it behind
In a box
My friends without keys go out from the jails it is night
They take the same road they miss
Each other they invent the same banner in the dark
They ask their way only of sentries too proud to breatheAt dawn the stars on their flag will vanishThe water will turn up their footprints and the day will rise
Like a monument to my
Friends the forgotten
W. S. Merwin
About the poet

W. S. Merwin

1927 - Present/AmericanWilliam Stanley Merwin is an American poet. During the 1960s anti-war movement, Merwin's unique craft was thematically characterized by indirect, unpunctuated narration. In the 80s and 90s, Merwin's writing influence derived from his in…

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