When I go away from you
       The world beats dead
       Like a slackened drum.
       I call out for you against the jutted stars
       And shout into the ridges of the wind.
       Streets coming fast,
       One after the other,
       Wedge you away from me,
       And the lamps of the city prick my eyes
       So that I can no longer see your face.
       Why should I leave you,
       To wound myself upon the sharp edges of the night?

Sword Blades and Poppy Seed
sword blades
   The Captured Goddess
   The Precinct. Rochester
   The Cyclists
   Sunshine through a Cobwebbed Window
   A London Thoroughfare. 2 A.M.
   Astigmatism
   The Coal Picker
   Storm-Racked
   Convalescence
   Patience
   Apology
   A Petition
   A Blockhead
   Stupidity
   Irony
   Happiness
   The Last Quarter of the Moon
   A Tale of Starvation
   The Foreigner
   Absence
   A Gift
   The Bungler
   Fool's Money Bags
   Miscast I
   Miscast II
   Anticipation
   Vintage
   The Tree of Scarlet Berries
   Obligation
   The Taxi
   The Giver of Stars
   The Temple
   Epitaph of a Young Poet Who Died Before Having Achieved Success
   In Answer to a Request
poppy seed
   The Great Adventure of Max Breuck
   Sancta Maria, Succurre Miseris
   After Hearing a Waltz by Bartok
   Clear, with Light, Variable Winds
   The Basket
   In a Castle
   The Book of Hours of Sister Clotilde
   The Exeter Road
   The Shadow
   The Forsaken
   Late September
   The Pike
   The Blue Scarf
   White and Green
   Aubade
   Music
   A Lady
   In a Garden
   A Tulip Garden