1148. IN MY TIME OF DYING TOO

IN MY TIME OF DYING TOO

There will be nothing like the haste of passage when

the passage makes haste to come : enter at will for

there is no turning back. That bevy of shoes and socks

in the doorway, remember, they were all for you :

left by the millions, forgotten by all, never needed

in any case. Cavemen and acolytes, millionaires

and troglodytes, the mixed sortie of ten-thousand

atomic bombs - all going off in your face, at once.

Lights the brilliance of flame, clouds as silver as gold.