I have forgotten them all.
Every city along whose streets
we walked, shoulder-pressed and glad,
every small slumberous town
with faint, few sleepy lights,
every hallowed room-for-a-night
that circled us in private edens --
all are as sun-shattered dreams.
(Genuflection to my all-merciful God!)
I could go anywhere, now,
head up, unafraid of haunted corners.
I could stride elegantly through tree-arched parkways,
half-whistling a once-cherished air.
I could sleep soundly in any bed,
cupped in a dreamless non-caring.
I could come slowly, languorously awake
to the fountain-throated meadowlark.
(Prayer of gratitude to the Compassionate Lord!)
Now I can make my songs
in what moment's way I choose,
nor bring them in uncertain hands
to spread before your critical eyes
whose merest scorn can crisp them black
and make my sternest effort seem the gaggling of a fool.
I need account to none save myself
when my runes spell out new names.
(Bending of candle-flame head to My Redeemer!)
I have forgotten them all,
all the taboos and the wanton freedoms,
all the torching lessons that shook awake my innocence,
all the small intimacies in the sorcery of your hands,
all the winds blowing wild through my hair
on all the journeys of laughter and of hush --
I have forgotten them . . .
I AM LYING IN MY CLENCHED TEETH !
(Beating of my breast -- "Through my most grievous fault . . . !"
p. 37
