Aline Kilmer

From “Novelette”

ALL that I had of wings—

And they were not large nor bright—

I broke against the harshness of your grieving,

Night after night.

All that I had of song—

It was weak and low, I fear—

Was sung to ease the ache of your own sorrow.

But you would not hear.

All that I had of tears—

And my tears were warm and blest—

Were shed to make your agony less lonely,

Upon your breast.

All that I asked to share

Was the pain that you would not show.

Now I have given you all that I had to give you,

Will you let me go?