OLD PEOPLE

They dwell in sorrow. If a time may come
When they recall as happiness this time
Yet now they know that Sorrow is its name,

Their country of domicile; and that it is,
Like other countries, not without its flowers
(Although as insect-small as arabis,
Minutest crucifer in stones and grass) -

As when in nights strange and unselved with sleep
And waking, she goes down to bring him up
Chocolate in a cup or sweetened tea,
Emblem of better comfort than can be;
And thinks of midnight feasts that children scheme:
Closeness, adventure, waking dream.

THE GIBBOUS MOON

At four this April morning the Easter moon -
...