Boy at the Window
- by Richard Wilbur 61Seeing the snowman standing all alone
In dusk and cold is more than he can bear.
The small boy weeps to hear the wind prepare
A night of gnashings and enormous moan.
His tearful sight can hardly reach to where
The pale-faced figure with bitumen eyes
Returns him such a God-forsaken stare
As outcast Adam gave to paradise.
The man of snow is, nonetheless, content,
Having no wish to go inside and die.
Still, he is moved to see the youngster cry.
Though frozen water is his element,
He melts enough to drop from one soft eye
A trickle of the purest rain, a tear
For the child at the bright pane surrounded by
Such warmth, such light, such love, and so much fear.
- by Richard Wilbur 34Right down the shocked street with a
That sends all else skittering to the
Redness, brass, ladders and hats hurl
Blurring to sheer verb,
Shift at the corner into uproarious gear
And make it around the turn in a squall
The headlong bell maintaining sure and
Thought is degraded action!
Beautiful, heavy, unweary, loud,
I stand here purged of nuance, my
mind a blank.
All I was brooding upon has taken
And I have you to thank.
As you howl beyond hearing I carry you
into my mind,
Ladders and brass and all, there to
Your phoenix-red simplicity, enshrined
In that not extinguished fire.
Poems by Richard Wilbur, Richard Wilbur's poems collection. Richard Wilbur is a classical and famous poet (March 1, 1921). Share all poems of Richard Wilbur.
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