This poem is a homage to the death of Theodore Roethke (May25, 1908 - August 1, 1963) and was written by dsh one week after his death. Wikipedia: Roethke was an American poet who published several volumes of influential and critically acclaimed verse. He is widely regarded as among the most accomplished and influential poets of his generation. Roethke's work is characterized by its introspection, rhythm and natural imagery. He was awarded the Pulitzer Prize for poetry in 1954 for his book, The Waking, and he won the annual National Book Award for Poetry twice, in 1959 for Words for the Wind[2] and posthumously in 1965 for The Far Field.In the November 1968 edition of the Atlantic Monthly, former U.S. Poet Laurete and author James Dickey wrote Roethke was: "...in my opinion the greatest poet this country has yet produced." In keeping with Houedard's poem, Roethke's poems often related to nature. -- Source of annotation: Marvin or Ruth Sackner.