a poem by Michael Cover


hold this sadness near your heart
for it is all you have,

as a violet, crushed, run with dew
(I mean the violet, and the word,

for the word signifies the thing,
calls forth, summons, has power over the object;

as Lazarus was called, freshly dead),
to teach you joy.




Michael Cover ’04 is a Classics graduate from Currier House.