Ground out
From under
his
scuffling and skew stumps,
The racketing music of
his
ascent
Rains down on their faces, like stones dropped
Into a well, and it will echo,
Discordant, among them long after
They have heard him reach
his
room finally
And hea:rd the door shut on their shame.
W. S.
Merwin
NO ONE
Who would it surprise
If
(after the flash, hush, rush,
Thump and crumpling) when the wind of prophecy
Lifts its pitch, and over the drifting ash
At last the trump splits the sky,
NoOne should arise
(No One just as before:
No limbs, eyes, presence;
Mindless and incorruptible) to inherit
Without question the opening heavens,
To be alone, to be complete,
.
And so forever?
Who had kept our secrets,
Whose wisdom we had heeded,
Who had stood near us (we proved it) again
And again in the dark, to whom we had prayed
Naturally and most often,
Who had escaped our malice-
