Paris Peace Accords 23 Oct. 1991

Saturday, October 21, 2017

Anterooms - a poem by Richard Wilbur

Anterooms

Out of the snowdrift 
Which covered it, this pillared
Sundial starts to lift,

Able now at last 
To let its frozen hours 
Melt into the past

In bright, ticking drops. 
Time so often hastens by, 
Time so often stops—

Still, it strains belief 
How an instant can dilate, 
Or long years be brief.

Dreams, which interweave
All our times and tenses, are
What we can believe:

Dark they are, yet plain,
Coming to us now as if
Through a cobwebbed pane
Where, before our eyes,
All the living and the dead
Meet without surprise.

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