59 To Douglas
In this city which scrapes the sky will we bleed?
Will we rise with the sparrows higher than teeth?
Will we fly with the swallows lower than sound?
Will we swallow the roaring tongue of the town,
Shrink the giant in the rising eye of the dove --
Leave the toy of the town in dust on the ground?
Will we gibe, with the crows, at fears locked with keys?
Or lost homeless in skies, with geese, will we weep?