Another Sunday poem

It's been a while since we had any Graves on here. Well, at least a couple of months!

Counting the beats

You, love, and I
(He whispers) you and I,
And if no more than you and I,
What care you or I?
Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie,
Cloudless day,
Night and a cloudless day;
Yet the huge storm will break on their heads one day
From a bitter sky.
Where shall we be
(She whispers) where shall we be,
When death strikes home,
O where then shall we be
Who were you and I?
Not there but here,
(He whispers) only here,
As we are, here, together, now and here,
Always you and I.
Counting the beats,
Counting the slow heart beats,
The bleeding to death of time in slow heart beats,
Wakeful they lie.

Robert Graves (1895-1985)