Classic Poem

Action. Let it come from anywhere. Action.
Write it on a slate anyone can rub off with a wet sponge.
It was there a minute ago. It came. It went. But this
That settles down among my scattered thoughts vainly
As a lamb to nurse a lone unbroken colt vainly as warm
Winter winds come to nurse a few fallen leaves out of
A brown gutter — there is no winter in this place where
Spring is always promised and always delayed and where
The gentleman and the lady bloom again in greenhouse
Colors. Never the colors of spring. Never the calendar
Opening itself like a fan held by a careless lady naked
To the shoulder. Never a laugh like a light off the
Sea that says I am well is dinner ready. Never a homecoming
In out of the fog and the danger, not going to bed early.