Galway Kinnell poem snippets

I sit a moment

by the fire, in the rain, speak

a few words into its warmth –

stone  saint  smooth  stone – and sing

one of the songs I used to croak

for my daughter, in her nightmares. (Under the Maud Moon)

Wait.
Don't go too early.
You're tired. But everyone's tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a while and listen.
Music of hair,
Music of pain,
music of looms weaving all our loves again. (Wait)