Hopeless is the hope
for a clean spring rain
the blush cheek of winter
the fall of the sane

The summer of once
is the trickle of soils
down the cliff of a ditch
down into our toils

Come all with a dream
down into the pits
where a ragged and spent
god wistfully sits

Confess to the deaf one
put coins in a palm
trench diggers care little
for us or our psalms