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The Dark Ages are looming. Do you hear, feel it, person of feeling,
The whisper of the dust slowly creeping, the distant smell of Sulphur?—
And that anguish fading in the air, the heart and the…
Day and night—
Shivering, we wait in bitter day
For moonlit night,
For the caressing moon.
Quivering, we wait in angry night—
For the sunlit day,
For the warming sun.
Day and night—
We must loom…
Is it any wonder that the sick are so pure and tender,
gazing across vast distances, seeing things that no one else does,
staying up at night, and smiling in the darkness,
as they caress their beds…
The golden noon of the desert beats down silently
On the fields of sand.
Weary skies
Move palely
Over the stillness.
The sun’s step
Strides silently in golden shoes.
Camel footsteps cover the…
Summer is waning from the gold and from the copper
and violet
of leaf fall in gardens, and clouds at twilight
that drown in their own blood.
And the garden empties, only a few stragglers,
a few…