These gardens empty; these fields only flower ghosts; these yards with faces gone; leaves speaking as feet and skirts in slow dances to slow winds; I turn my head and say good-by to no one who hears; I pronounce a useless good-by.
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HUNTINGTON sleeps in a house six feet long.
Huntington dreams of ten thousand men saying: Yes, sir.Blithery sleeps in a house six feet long.Blithery dreams of rails and ties he laid.Blithery dreams of saying to Huntington: Yes, sir.Huntington,Blithery, sleep in houses six feet long.
I GIVE the undertakers permission to haul my body
feet, the hands, all: I know there is something leftover they can not put away.Let the nanny goats and the billy goats of the shantypeople eat the clover over my grave and if any yellowhair or any blue smoke of flowers is good enough to growover me let the dirty-fisted children of the shantypeople pick…
BLOSSOMS of babies
Come softOn the dusk and the babble;Little red gamblers,Handfuls that slept in the dust.Summers of rain,Winters of drift,Tell off the years;And they go backWho came soft-Back to the sod,To silence and dust;Gray gamblers,Handfuls again.
Wonder as of old things
Hangs over pasture and road.Lush in the lowland grasses riseAnd upland beckons to upland.The great strong hills are humble.
THEY are crying salt tears
Of Inez Milholland,Because they are glad she lived,Because she loved open-armed,Throwing love for a cheap thingBelonging to everybody-Cheap as sunlight,And morning air.
Shine on, O moon of summer.
All silver under your rain to-night.An Italian boy is sending songs to you to-night from an accordion.A Polish boy is out with his best girl; they marry next month; to-night they are throwing you kisses.An old man next door is dreaming over a sheen that sits in a cherry tree in his back yard.The clocks…