John Berryman

17 Jun

John-Berryman-1914-1972

A very satisfying ending to one of the most riveting book of poems (Berryman’s Sonnets) I’ve read:

(the end of Sonnet 115)

The weather’s changing.  This morning was cold,
as I made for the grove, without expectation,
some hundred sonnets in my pocket, old,
to read her if she came.  Presently the sun
yellowed the pines & my lady came not
in blue jeans & a sweater.  I sat down & wrote. 
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