We, who sit with open eyes,
closed lips, and quietly rise,
discreet, whispering good night,
disappearing with a bright
sharp smile,
will be saying yes, yes
(after a while):
yes, yes to neighboring bones
and rocks and roots of trees;
yes, yes to grass
and the stones forever sunken
on our foreheads;
(agreeably, still discreet) yes,
(eagerly) yes, we are here given all our worth:
this broken wood, damp sheet, long growing hair.
(O love, lie closer, love—yes, we shall share
our everlasting earth.)
Horace Gregory.
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