Two Poems

Memorial

Words that mutter to themselves
Break into the voice like water
Seeking for water, they can't
Be quiet, they lurch from the mouth
While reason catches in the throat.

Others lie mingled where the land
Sprouts with grain, or fruit
Splits on the bough, when the sun
Withers the bunches on the vine:
Gleanings of the dark thrust,

Pomegranate, wheat and almond,
Get stirred together in a dish
To offer and to please: the living
Will stop their mouths, the others
Will fatten a little, and hunger a little.
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