“The Stones Thrown”
The stones thrown casually today become poems in the steam;
Their waters’chards and spray are showers built with shafts of light
The which provide the shadow and the altered night
Refreshed and sheltered from the screams
And harshness of the single day’s relentless runes.
Such thoughts as were, and are, and then recede
Again to depths in scribbles on the page only seem
To move when spied by such effects as in this room
Confront us all with truths once mined
When at this age or that and raging in the times,
A day remembered heeds the call for thoughts sublime
Beneath the earth to upward rise and then to climb
Too high for any bird to falsify, to glide, much less to soar:
Thus far and more are whispered now for evermore.