One of my favourites

I just love this poem by Ruth Miller. I used to read it a lot when I was younger, at varsity, and have sort of forgotten it exept for that last stanza which is so beautifull and haunting that I couldn't help but find myself reciting it from time to time, especially after meeting Ian...

Aspects of Love

I

Green things grow in the wrong places
They unfeather in the emphasis
On noughts in the sum.
Love is no logician
Hears the argument
Blandly, never to profit
by the Socratic method
And puts forth greenness on outlandish stone

II

Love? We should smother it
and push it up the chimney
He said, half meaning it
We know now what he intended
for finding love at their door
on a cold night, people - if they are wise
Will push it up the chimney into the smoke before
It wails at them with such clenched desire
As will bring into the quiet house
The significant ecstatic loss

III

On a high hill in the cold wind
on a sunless day
You brought me a bird seeking to unsay
its vulture moments
Though I was afraid
I felt its warmth undo my startled hand.

(Ruth Miller)