All day we two had wandered in the hills
And, wind-blown, sat ourselves at last to rest.
Within your hair the poppy bloom I wove
Then by your side stretched out upon the grass
And closed my eyes; but you would savor now
Each shifting scene that comes at close of day-
You speak the ecstacy of living flesh
And that to be alive upon the Earth
Is miracle enough – why search the cause.
But I
I saw not fields of green and flowers there
Nor woods beyond that shimmered in the glow
Of sunset hyperboreal, nor heard
The pleasant breeze caress our wearied feet.
I only know
As one enthralled in chains of levined fire
An emptiness that spread its hollow cloak
Across the gulfs of space, where atoms swirl
Close-latticed in the slag of stars that were.
The wind I felt caressed no mortal brow
But streamed athwart the face of one who stood
Implacable as Death, the chaos stormed
On cyclone wings that roiled the ordered spheres
To twisting vortices – before mine eyes
Volcanic geysers thundered as the suns
Exploded in the duress of the wrack
And I
I stood four-square that roaring blast
Looked steadfast down the bronzen maw of Hell-
and laughed.
Grady Louis McMurtry
(1918 – 1985)
