The End

There was an avenue there,
Where we walked upon the starry stairs,
And in it walked a mass.
You pointed out the people,
All the places they had been,
As out through all the billboards,
The coffee-steam, the smoke,
The stream of shriveled voices
Trampled on to ends.
“All things must end,” you said…
I think that truer words are seldom said.
For I can see, deep within the wanderings of my mind,
Those faces I once knew, and never seen again.

And should I dread
Some long, dragged-out departing?
Or should I feel love?
I dream of long roads,
Of empty stores with “closed;”
I dream the past like present,
In my leaves I feel the rain –
So smooth, so subtle,
So soon replaced by summer pains.

Life is full of spider-pains,
Planned and purposed out to break.

And in the sea, I sat among the coral,
I watched it grow, I watched the flitting fish;
I saw a hook, and gladly gaped my mouth –
I left that sunless dream-world,
And found myself alone.
What tide will be the highest,
Will wipe my castle off the ocean floor?
I pray for cloaking memory,
I pray for sunny roads.