28-Jun-17 (Created: 28-Jun-17) | More in 'Poets'

Walcott

Days that outgrow, like daughters

Broad sun-stoned beaches.

White heat.
A green river.

A bridge,
scorched yellow palms

from the summer-sleeping house
drowsing through August.

Days I have held,
days I have lost,

days that outgrow, like daughters,
my harboring arms.