This one—If I must Be—
Exact, all hg1s hid their edges. A Tide
Passed over the long black grass, the sky Grew
Green and bigger, I drank red potions in Satiating
Portions. But—having Nothing—
To compare it to—I Saw
Felt, tasted Nothing.
To Think—
Once I was taught a Foreign
Language with words—like Seeds
Of poppies! Trice I was brought a Bouquet
Of yellow—butterflies, alighting! Unfurling—
And all I could think: I am thrice—unfurling. Next Door
They built a house of Noise. The tiny hammers and Anvils
Inside my ears—never ceasing. Next door: I was Left—
Ajar—having too little to say to my few and Far,
My friends. And you, fair friend—who Stayed
So Long—we had to call It
A big old windy Dwelling.
A three hundred sixty five star Night.
A Day.
In one of my Lives
I didn't know How—
Good—I kept my bird-like arms—Folded
Under what should have Been
My chest what should have Been
My heart—made the Usual
Small—human—Noises.