Classic Poem

Let me
Close my eyes tight.
Still my arms,
Let me be.
Then, come.
Let me be utterly alone:
Do not let the awful understanding that comes with
The thought of death
Bother me.

Your love was not strong enough to hold me.

Death takes things away:
I have them here in my hands,
The rags.

I do not understand the cosmic humor
That lets foolish impossibilities, like me, live.

I have made a mess of it,
But I am no debtor.

It's the yearn of a nervous man,
The yearn for peace,
The curiosity for a word:
Forever.

If She would only come quietly,
Like a lady —
The first lady and the last.

Just not to hear any longer
The noise swelling from the morning streets,
Nor the two desperate sparrows chirruping;
Just not to fear any longer