A deeper breath than passion knew

Running rest-day ...

... and given tomorrow is Remembrance Sunday, thought this John Freeman poem, from the pictured 1977 volume, would be appropriate:


Armistice Day

Birds stayed not their singing,
The heart its beating,
The blood its steady coursing.
The child in the dark womb
Stirred; dust settled in the tomb.

Old wounds were still smarting,
Echoes were hollow-sounding,
New desires still upspringing.
No silent Armistice might stay
Life and Death, wrangling in the old way.

Earth's pulse still was beating,
The bright stars circling;
Only our tongues were hushing.
While Time ticked silent on, men drew
A deeper breath than passion knew.