Poetry Archives

Lest by diminished vitality and abated
Vigilance, I become food for crocodiles—for that
quicksand
Of gluttony which is legion. It is there—close
at hand—
On either side
Of me. You remember the Israelites who said
in pride
“And stoutness of heart: ‘The bricks are fallen down,
we will
Build with hewn stone, the sycamores are cut down,
we will charge to
Cedars?’ I am not ambitious to dress stones,
to renew
Forts, nor to match
My value in action, against their ability to catch
“Up with arrested prosperity. I am not like
Them, indefatigable, but if you are a god you will
Not descriminate against me. Yet—if you may fulfill
None but prayers dressed
As gifts in return for your own gifts—disregard
the request.