46
Transitional Poem
Wiser it were to sheathMy burning heart in clayThan by this double breathTo magnify the tomb.
I'd live like grass and trees,Familiar of the earth,Proving its basalt peaceTill I was unperturbed
By synod of the sunsOr a moon's insolenceAs the ant when he runsBeneath sky-scraping grass.
23
You've trafficked with no beast but unicornWho dare hold me in scornFor my dilemmas. Nor have you perceivedThe compass-point suggestAn east by pointing to the west,Or you'd not call me thus deceivedFor fixing my desireOn this magnetic north to gyreUnder the sheer authority of ice.
