1975

When air dense with the last cicada drawl,                                       

Lay heavy on the wooded eastern side,

That weaving lane was harrowed to recall,                                        

Man’s grasp for riches which the land denied

Therein foremost his iron fingertip,

Drove stillness from the air and stone from knoll

What sacred might they so swiftly equip,

Yet bind it thus we may compose the toll

When blazing heartbeats slow, grow faint, and lay

At rest, when nameless gods did last set forth,

The hills wish not to long recall their stay,

So earth returns to wrought and wrought to earth 

In past deserted for austerity,

Among the timber shares their dignity.