Adrienne Rich — Nightwatch

And now, outside, the walls of black flint, eyeless. How pale in sleep you lie. Love: my love is just a breath blown on the pane and dissolved. Everything, even you, cries silently for help, the web of the spider is ripped with rain, the geese fly on into the black cloud. What can I do for you? what can I do for you? Can the touch of a finger mend what a finger's touch has broken? Blue-eyed now, yellow-haired, I stand in my old nightmare beside the track, while you and over and over and always you plod into the deathcars. Sometimes you smile at me and I-I smile back at you. How sweet the odor of the station-master's roses! How pure, how poster-like the colors of this dream.