LAST WORDS
Reading edition
LISTEN: from sleep’s long pillow I arise To go away. One moment let me lean On falling air before I lock my eyes. Are the leaves red now? No matter. Trees are green. The colors of the world are permanent Despite the bleach of change. Pure stain on stain The bow of light’s eternal forms is bent Across steep heaven in the general brain. Who cries, The beautiful, the proud, are fallen! (O silly child, it was myself that cried.) Death, eater of the heads of flowers, spills pollen: Our little strength, our beauty, and our pride Are for the race to keep; we can discover Secrets with our broken skulls; our dead feet run Under the lid of earth that closes over The generations marching to the sun.