MY forefathers gave me My spirit’s shaken flame, The shape of hands, the beat of he… The letters of my name. But it was my lovers,

The moon is a charring ember Dying into the dark; Off in the crouching mountains Coyotes bark. The stars are heavy in heaven,

Was that his step that sounded on… Was that his knock I heard upon t… I grow so tired I almost cease to… And yet I would that he might com… It was the wind I heard, that moc…

HOW many times we must have met Here on the street as strangers do… Children of chance we were, who pa… The door of heaven and never knew.

IF I were a bee and you were a ro… Would you let me in when the gray… Would you hold your petals wide ap… Would you let me in to find your h… If you were a rose?

I came to the crowded Inn of Eart… And called for a cup of wine, But the Host went by with averted… From a thirst as keen as mine. Then I sat down with weariness

To-night I close my eyes and see A strange procession passing me— The years before I saw your face Go by me with a wistful grace; They pass, the sensitive shy years…

When I am dying, let me know That I loved the blowing snow Although it stung like whips; That I loved all lovely things And I tried to take their stings

Lo, I am happy, for my eyes have… Joy glowing here before me, face t… His wings were arched above me for… I kissed his lips, no bitter came… The air is vibrant where his feet…

MY heart is a garden tired with a… Heaped with bending asters and dah… In the hazy sunshine, the garden r… The drench of rains and a snow-dro… Daffodils blowing in the cold wind…

There never was a mood of mine, Gay or heart-broken, luminous or d… But you could ease me of its fever And give it back to me more beutif… In many another soul I broke the…

I am alone, in spite of love, In spite of all I take and give’€… In spite of all your tenderness, Sometimes I am not glad to live. I am alone, as though I stood

I gave my first love laughter, I gave my second tears, I gave my third love silence Thru all the years. My first love gave me singing,

I. Spirit’s House From naked stones of agony I will build a house for me; As a mason all alone I will raise it, stone by stone,

I SHOULD be glad of loneliness And hours that go on broken wings, A thirsty body, a tired heart And the unchanging ache of things, If I could make a single song