Becca Klaver

Sep 27, 2024 | beta.poetryfoundation.org | William Butler Yeats |Becca Klaver

Midnight has come and the great Christ Church bellAnd many a lesser bell sound through the room;And it is All Souls’ Night. And two long glasses brimmed with muscatelBubble upon the table. A ghost may come;For it is a ghost’s right,His element is so fineBeing sharpened by his death,To drink from the wine-breathWhile our gross palates drink from the whole wine.

Oct 30, 2023 | poetryfoundation.org | Annie Finch |Becca Klaver

In the season leaves should love, since it gives them leave to move through the wind, towards the ground they were watching while they hung, legend says there is a seam stitching darkness like a name. Now when dying grasses veil earth from the sky in one last pale wave, as autumn dies to bring winter back, and then the spring, we who die ourselves can peel back another kind of veil that hangs among us like thick smoke. Tonight at last I feel it shake.