See me! My hair is dripping with nectarStarlings carry it On their black wings. See, at last My arms and my hands Are lying idle. How can I tell If I shall ever love you again NAKED NAKED What fool would feel His cheeks burn Because of the snow? Would he call it By a name, give it Would he call it A woman? (Surely then he would be A fool.) And see her, Warmed with the cold, Go upon the heads Whose faces lean Would he watch The compassion of Her eyes, That look, now up Now down, To the turn of The wind and The turn of The shivering minds Motionless-troubled? I ask you I ask you, my townspeople, What fool is this? Would he forget The sight of His mother and His wife Because of her? Have his heart Turned to ice That will not soften? Naked What! Would he see a thing Lovelier than A high-school girl, With the skill Of Venus To stand naked Naked on the air? Falling snow and you up there waiting. MARRIAGE So different, this man. And this woman: A stream flowing In a field. APOLOGY Why do I write today? The beauty of The terrible faces Of our nonentities Stirs me to it: Colored women Day workers, Old and experienced, Returning home at dusk In cast-off clothing, Faces like Old Florentine oak. Also The set pieces Of your faces stir me Leading citizens: But not In the same way. SUMMER SONG Wanderer moon, Smiling A faintly ironical smile At this brilliant, Summer morning A detached, Sleepily indifferent Smile, A wanderer's smile If I should Apology |