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For that day-lightning, For hoe blade buckle bifocal To reach you. Whatever it does Again is worth waiting for Worth stopping the car worth standing alone For and arranging the body For light to score offyou In its own way, and send Across the wheat the broad silent Blue valley, your long-awaited, Blinding, blood-brotherly Beyond-speech answer. Adultery We have all been in rooms We cannot die in, and they are odd places, and sad. Often Indians are standing eagle-armed on hills In the sunrise open wide to the Great Spirit Or gliding in canoes or cattle are browsing on the walls Far away gazing down with the eyes ofour children Not far away or there are men driving The last railspike, which has turned Gold in their hands. Gigantic forepleasure lives Among such scenes, and we are alone with it At last. There is always some weeping Between us and someone is always checking A wrist watch by the bed to see how much Longer we have left. Nothing can come Ofthis nothing can come Ofus: ofme with my grim techniques Or you who have sealed your womb With a ring ofconvulsive rubber: FallingJ May Day SermonJ and Other Poems / 262 Although we come together, Nothing will come ofus. But we would not give It up, for death is beaten By praying Indians by distant cows historical Hammers by hazardous meetings that bridge A continent. One could never die here Never die never die While crying. My lover, my dear one I will see you next week When I'm in town. I will call you IfI can. Please get hold of please don't Oh God, Please don't any more I can't bear ... Listen: We have done it again we are Still living. Sit up and smile, God bless you. Guilt is magical. Hedge Life At morning we all look out As our dwelling lightens; we have been somewhere. With dew our porous home Is dense, wound up like a spring, Which is solid as motherlode At night. Those who live in these apartments Exist for the feeling ofgrowth As thick as it can get, but filled with Concealment. When lightning Strikes us, we are safe; there is nothing to strike, no bole For all-fire's shattered right arm. We are small creatures, surviving On the one breath that grows In our lungs in the complex green, reassured in the dawnsilver heavy as wool. We wait With crowded excitement Hedge Life / 263 ...

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