This page has been validated.
For the simple truth is
that though I see you clear enough
you are not there!
It is not that—it is you,
you I want!
—God, if I could fathom
the guts of shadows!
You to come with me
poking into negro houses
with their gloom and smell!
In among children
leaping around a dead dog!
Mimicking
onto the lawns of the rich!
You!
to go with me a-tip-toe
head down under heaven,
nostrils lipping the wind!
PASTORAL
When I was younger
it was plain to me
I must make something of myself.
Older now
I walk back streets
admiring the houses
[14]
