II

Theophany

When the listless phrases sprawl
Among the ruined hours
Sometimes, as on silence, fall
Echoes from unkind shores.

Then dead words live and in some face
Ghosts writhe beneath the pulp—
The bombs drop near the hostile base
The shattered children yelp.

Sunlight poised above doomed snow
Awaits the sacrifice;
Scrawled notes in gas-filled rooms may show
Surprise and grief at this.

The moon for which the lover whines
May probe and not anoint
As on its corrupt home it shines,
Avenging, innocent.

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Who sees the momentary blade
Glisten in time's defeat
Knows all that he has loved betrayed,
His hatred put to flight.