Line them up like candle sticks
There, in every empty frame
Quiet, aligned, they greet me home
No two ones the same.

I came in from the bitterness
They fought their way on through
Blades and pines, the wilderness
More lines, yes, they speak too.

Are they notes of senselessness
That speak of wintry boyish grief?
Clearly, when the tears are long
The lead is ever brief.

I came to cry the voiceless song
Of terrors vague, but bleak
To beat my breast in poems plain
Intended hugeness, meek.

Dusted ‘long the desk far edge
The shavings are as ****** things
The grey won’t bulk, only defend
Both placate my rememberings.

Get these bards out from my head
The depth into, foolishly repenned
Confirmed in life as substanceless
--One to the window again.

Failed pillars of the balm I sought
Look there! The thoughts I had to lame
Cut from sweet youth, dumb and aloud
Deaths all lying silent, in vain.

Those faint shades of negate-gone
Drop down from the general tear
Left to cradle th’abundant soul
In silent tongues, songs left to bear.