Pantoum No 11
The two were silent in a chamber still,
With naught to grasp, no aching, outstretched hand,
No turn of phrase to woo, or charm, or thrill,
And no wise quips to make them understand.
With naught to grasp, no aching, outstretched hand,
One to the other looked, with tender eyes
And no wise quips to make them understand,
They could not harbor sense to realize.
One to the other looked with tender eyes,
An empty space between them, they were spent;
They could not harbor sense to realize
Their love was not yet broken, only bent.
An empty space between them, they were spent;
“Must it be this way?” the silence broke.
Their love was not yet broken, only bent,
though they were both undone, from words they spoke.
“Must it be this way?” the silence broke.
No turn of phrase to woo, or charm, or thrill,
though they were both undone from words they spoke,
the two were silent in a chamber still.
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