 | [Poems by Kilmer in] Joyce Kilmer |  |
254
METAMORPHOSIS
He was an evil thing to see—
Of joy his mouth was desolate;
His body was a stunted tree,
His eyes were pools of lust and hate.
Of joy his mouth was desolate;
His body was a stunted tree,
His eyes were pools of lust and hate.
Now silverly the linnet sings
On leaves that from his temples start,
And gay the yellow crocus springs
From the rich clod that was his heart.
On leaves that from his temples start,
And gay the yellow crocus springs
From the rich clod that was his heart.
| [Poems by Kilmer in] Joyce Kilmer | |