(no subject)
Ravelled banners streaming to the south-east
Like thought drawn out, wracked and torn, when the wind
Shifts and rises and the light fails in the long
School room of the setting sun. What is left
To mind but remembrances of the world?
The people of the road, in tears, sit down
At the road-side and tell stories of the world
Then they rise again in tears and go up.
The mill sits in the springs. Water wheels whack
Round: Alive,whack. Dying, whack. Dead whack. Nothing.
How, then, to do things with tears?-Deliver us,
Zion, from mist. Kill us in the light.
Like thought drawn out, wracked and torn, when the wind
Shifts and rises and the light fails in the long
School room of the setting sun. What is left
To mind but remembrances of the world?
The people of the road, in tears, sit down
At the road-side and tell stories of the world
Then they rise again in tears and go up.
The mill sits in the springs. Water wheels whack
Round: Alive,whack. Dying, whack. Dead whack. Nothing.
How, then, to do things with tears?-Deliver us,
Zion, from mist. Kill us in the light.