the first sign of darkness?
- -slips by- -

  didn't see it

- -and then another- -

  who can say for sure?

- -again!- -

  divinity calms my trunk of ribs,

  still there,

  clenched

- -it darkens- -

  in my

- -growing ever dimmer- -

  fingernails

- -as the night takes hold
 of

The desert we tread,

Our feet of lead. . .

The desert we tread. . .

What lies ahead?

Where is our tear?

Have we no fear?

Where is our tear?

So often near.

We drift a long day

Toward desert's display—

We drift on the day—

Our hopes not frayed.

Oh mistaken night,

We must take fright!

Oh mistaken night,

Illusion so bright!

The desert we tread,

All hope hence fled;

The desert we tread,

Until we got dead.

violet breezes;

dew drops chime

in the sprinkling sunshine:

what melody teases?

with jubilant caress,

languid scents stir,

while leaves whisper

about the watercress

birds in flowery flight

salute the copper sky,

with a swooping cry;

then verdantly alight

in sultry sadness

marches the day—

with golden spray—

towards its death