TRICKLE, drops! my blue veins leaving
O drops of me! trickle, slow drops,
Candid, from me falling--drip, bleeding drops,
From wounds made to free you whence you were prison'd,
From my face--from my forehead and lips,
From my breast--from within where I was conceal'd--press forth, red
drops--confession drops;
Stain every page--stain every song I sing, every word I say, bloody drops;
Let them know your scarlet heat--let them glisten;
Saturate them with yourself, all ashamed and wet;
Glow upon all I have written, or shall write, bleeding drops;
Let it all be seen in your light, blushing drops.
Trinckle, Drops
Walt Whitman
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Poem topics: light, red, song, blue, write, face, prison, slow, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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