The checkered dress begins to climb the stairs, And beneath her feet an oak voice Scans running words into iambs. She goes through the heavy sleeping door Like the wind and suddenly Grows like a statue in the room. But she throws the children out the window, And the geranium and the canary, And the infants, flapping their wings, Set down like angels in the square. And the canary sprouts A bright yellow blossom. And the stone Hands the man a pen and a notebook And languidly begins to dictate.
Winds gather Dancers running in the hills.
The young branch in my hand Turns suddenly to ash. A black echo knocks about in the abyss. The star is blind, the star is old. Dryad's feet in the tree's hands Flame with a blue flame. Heaven and the sun, pears and grapes, And the breasts of a young girl Who waited for love in the shade of a cloud.