These Fathers Passed
Wishing so much in the vacuum of night
That the old man could have gone through
A century of middle age
With me as witness and partner despite
And even with the ragged flaws and chill
Of our misunderstood hours.
Bricks parted with a sharp deft blow
Then set flat in mortar
With me his soaker there bewitched
Kneeling to receive his wish
Another one, now watch here this—
He lived to level out disorder.
Yours is gone now too.
What place is there for these men
Such fathers as we once possessed?
Mine vanished as I turned away
Yours took his ample time
But their indent is of endless depth
And we step with care at that precipice.
No word describes the allness of his reign
No phrase to compass in his gifts
No cry so deep as to reveal our loss
Though the call rends dark and needful night
For as long as nights there are.