background image
the sum 297
But now it presses shadows with vague thumb
To make the handsome, mobile nature.
You see no further. In this picture
The face alone is there,
As if there were no need for other matter.
And the expression is severe.
Deep in an ancient chair (behind,
A tall door stands ajar,
Before him burns a window with no blind,
No place for vagueness here)
He rests distinct. A massive cane
Gleams in his hand against
The shade of his dark sleeve; shrunk bone and vein
Sustain a grasp advanced
Through every long-past shift of air,
Ready for utter shock.
But the hand lags behind his candid glare.
Death and the eyes already lock.
"you need a change of scene"
Sick of the slippery rot old oaks beget,
The spongy browns of a summer sunken, wet
Leafy destructions, all the heavy smell,
The heavy going of the trees to hell,
I thought of the desert -- sand, merely, and air,
The white region of sun, brilliant, bare,
In all directions blank simplicity....
Good lack I sought, have I come close? I see