Thursday, August 9, 2012

Great Shame

Great shame may be obtained by routing
To my withered garden the years

An army carrying burning straw
Have come to smell the perfume of

An old man I ask the splendor of
The sky like a lost coat as long

As I am flesh and bone will never find
Rest—every spring weakens

Overcomes me as all the world
Grows more lovely my bowels—

Torn beyond the roofs of
The women’s quarters grown hard to

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