the flower
has more moisture
than the Soil
and the earthTones
have less vivid tinctures
with solid Toil
a power. the truth. the sky.

a flower. new bloom
with its rancid clutter
around the vase, the pulled
and fallen, petals -
the drab droplettes of glad tidings
or sad-like bells
clanged with clamour
all gowned in glamour
touched by a hover or glide
in the stature of things
and the square rings
that yield a snoot, the way
a drop is sad with smell
the power. a flash. and smiles.

O fog,
shrouding the busy highways
   softly
muting their resonant roar
   to distant growls

Unfurl your smooth fury,
crumple these cars,
shatter their frames across
   and beyond their concrete tracks
   that separate forests and hills
   and thicken the air
   with acrid smells
   from exhausted horsepowers.

Embrace them,
   O fog,
and guide their screeching tires
   over the embankment

roaring hearses
unreigned
by your moist arms

                           * * *

     &) Discovered recently among H. D.´s unpublished papers at Yale University Library, malevolent scholars take this poem as proof for the poet´s befogged imagination during some of her post-imagist periods. More englightened critics, though, point to the stunning topicality of H. D.´s mythopoetic mind in its accurate presentation of mankind´s archetypal struggle against nature. There is as yet insufficient biographical evidence that the mature H. D. possibly had a short but intensive attachment to the infant Ralph Nader, who later became head of the U. S. Environmental Protection Agency. – For serious information on the poet, see  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/H.D.