Lost,under this tree of maple,hands tied, hugging the rough wood.the sand rises up above my waistand thickens to strangle my crotch,what have I done to her.leaves slowly drift down andslice open my face with theirrazor coated edges as they pass.hours later I am parched,the sun suffers me and laughs asI attempt to drink the droplets of sweat,walking down my cheek.as dry as a wooden chair,my exhaustion peaks beyond hope,the desert dismantles through my eyes.
fall below meon to my feetinto the seaMagnetic birdsswallowing seedssleeping in grasschewing on weedsMagnetic birdsstuck to the cloudsabsorbing the lightresolving the crowdsMagnetic birdsbring me the lightopen the sunrise of the whiteMagnetic birds
Consulting summer's clock,But half the hours remain.I ascertain it with a shock --I shall not look again.The second half of joyIs shorter than the first.The truth I do not dare to knowI muffle with a jest.
Sweet Peace, where dost thou dwell? I humbly crave,Let me once know.I sought thee in a secret cave,And ask'd, if Peace were there,A hollow wind did seem to answer, No:Go seek elsewhere.I did; and going did a rainbow note:Surely, thought I,This is the lace of Peace's coat:I will search out the matter.But while I looked the clouds immediatelyDid break and scatter.Then went I to a garden and did spyA gallant flower,The crown-imperial: Sure, said I,Peace at the root must dwell.
It sounded as if the Streets were runningAnd then -- the Streets stood still --Eclipse -- was all we could see at the WindowAnd Awe -- was all we could feel.By and by -- the boldest stole out of his CovertTo see if Time was there --Nature was in an Opal Apron,Mixing fresher Air.