Then like a new Jill
Toiling up a hill
Life scrambles after.

BROOKLYN BRIDGE

Pythoness body--arching
Over the night like an ecstasy--
I feel your coils tightening...
And the world's lessening breath.

DREAMS

Men die...
Dreams only change their houses.
They cannot be lined up against a wall
And quietly buried under ground,
And no more heard of...
However deep the pit and heaped the clay--
Like seedlings of old time
Hooding a sacred rose under the ice cap of the world--
Dreams will to light.

THE FIRE

The old men of the world have made a fire
To warm their trembling hands.
They poke the young men in.
The young men burn like withes.