THE sun immense and rosy¹      Must have sunk and become extinct
     The night you closed your eyes for ever against me.
 
     Grey days, and wan², dree dawnings
     Since then, with fritter of flowers—
     Day wearies me with its ostentation³ and fawnings.
 
     Still, you left me the nights,
     The great dark glittery window,
     The bubble hemming⁴ this empty existence with
        lights.
 
     Still in the vast hollow
     Like a breath in a bubble spinning
     Brushing the stars, goes my soul, that skims the
        bounds like a swallow!
 
     I can look through
     The film of the bubble night, to where you are.
     Through the film I can almost touch you.
 
       EASTWOOD