Poetry for Monday, Novmeber 7

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1035

Bee! I'm expecting you!
Was saying Yesterday
To Somebody you know
That you were due --

The Frogs got Home last Week --
Are settled, and at work --
Birds, mostly back --
The Clover warm and thick --

You'll get my Letter by
The seventeenth; Reply
Or better, be with me --
Yours, Fly.

1036

Satisfaction -- is the Agent
Of Satiety --
Want -- a quiet Commissary
For Infinity.

To possess, is past the instant
We achieve the Joy --
Immortality contented
Were Anomaly.

1037

Here, where the Daisies fit my Head
'Tis easiest to lie
And every Grass that plays outside
Is sorry, some, for me.

Where I am not afraid to go
I may confide my Flower --
Who was not Enemy of Me
Will gentle be, to Her.

Nor separate, Herself and Me
By Distances become --
A single Bloom we constitute
Departed, or at Home –

1038

Her little Parasol to lift
And once to let it down
Her whole Responsibility --
To imitate be Mine.

A Summer further I must wear,
Content if Nature's Drawer
Present me from sepulchral Crease
As blemishless, as Her.

1039

I heard, as if I had no Ear
Until a Vital Word
Came all the way from Life to me
And then I knew I heard.

I saw, as if my Eye were on
Another, till a Thing
And now I know 'twas Light, because
It fitted them, came in.

I dwelt, as if Myself, were out,
My Body but within
Until a Might detected me
And set my kernel in.

And Spirit turned unto the Dust
"Old Friend, thou knowest me,"
And Time went out to tell the News
And met Eternity.