I tend my flowers for thee --
Bright Absentee!
My Fuchsia's Coral Seams
Rip -- while the Sower -- dreams --
Geraniums -- tint -- and spot --
Low Daisies -- dot --
My Cactus -- splits her Beard
To show her throat --
Carnations -- tip their spice --
And Bees -- pick up --
A Hyacinth -- I hid --
Puts out a Ruffled Head --
And odors fall
From flasks -- so small --
You marvel how they held --
Globe Roses -- break their satin glake --
Absent Place -- an April Day --
Daffodils a-blow
Homesick curiosity
To the Souls that snow --
Drift may block within it
Deeper than without --
Daffodil delight but
Him it duplicate --
So give me back to Death --
The Death I never feared
Except that it deprived of thee --
And now, by Life deprived,
In my own Grave I breathe
And estimate its size --
Its size is all that Hell can guess --
And all that Heaven was --
Ourselves were wed one summer -- dear --
Your Vision -- was in June --
And when Your little Lifetime failed,
I wearied -- too -- of mine --
And overtaken in the Dark --
Where You had put me down --
By Some one carrying a Light --
I -- too -- received the Sign.
'Tis true -- Our Futures different lay --
Your Cottage -- faced the sun --
While Oceans -- and the North must be --
On every side of mine
'Tis true, Your Garden led the Bloom,
For mine -- in Frosts -- was sown --
And yet, one Summer, we were Queens --
But You -- were crowned in June --
How happy I was if I could forget
To remember how sad I am
Would be an easy adversity
But the recollecting of Bloom
Keeps making November difficult
Till I who was almost bold
Lose my way like a little Child
And perish of the cold.
He told a homely tale
And spotted it with tears --
Upon his infant face was set
The Cicatrice of years --
All crumpled was the cheek
No other kiss had known
Than flake of snow, divided with
The Redbreast of the Barn --
If Mother -- in the Grave --
Or Father -- on the Sea --
Or Father in the Firmament --
Or Brethren, had he --
If Commonwealth below,
Or Commonwealth above
Have missed a Barefoot Citizen --
I've ransomed it -- alive --
It would have starved a Gnat --
To live so small as I --
And yet I was a living Child --
With Food's necessity
Upon me -- like a Claw --
I could no more remove
Than I could coax a Leech away --
Or make a Dragon -- move --
Not like the Gnat -- had I --
The privilege to fly
And seek a Dinner for myself --
How mightier He -- than I --
Nor like Himself -- the Art
Upon the Window Pane
To gad my little Being out --
And not begin -- again --
I got so I could take his name --
Without -- Tremendous gain --
That Stop-sensation -- on my Soul --
And Thunder -- in the Room --
I got so I could walk across
That Angle in the floor,
Where he turned so, and I turned -- how --
And all our Sinew tore --
I got so I could stir the Box --
In which his letters grew
Without that forcing, in my breath --
As Staples -- driven through --
Could dimly recollect a Grace --
I think, they call it "God" --
Renowned to ease Extremity --
When Formula, had failed --
A Pang is more conspicuous in Spring
In contrast with the things that sing
Not Birds entirely -- but Minds --
Minute Effulgencies and Winds --
When what they sung for is undone
Who cares about a Blue Bird's Tune --
Why, Resurrection had to wait
Till they had moved a Stone --
If I'm lost -- now
That I was found --
Shall still my transport be --
That once -- on me -- those Jasper Gates
Blazed open -- suddenly --
That in my awkward -- gazing -- face --
The Angels -- softly peered --
And touched me with their fleeces,
Almost as if they cared --
I'm banished -- now -- you know it --
How foreign that can be --
You'll know -- Sir -- when the Savior's face
Turns so -- away from you --
How the Waters closed above Him
We shall never know --
How He stretched His Anguish to us
That -- is covered too --
Spreads the Pond Her Base of Lilies
Bold above the Boy
Whose unclaimed Hat and Jacket
Sum the History --
Birthday of but a single pang
That there are less to come --
Afflictive is the Adjective
But affluent the doom --