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Pigmy Thuwed Omega
like a flower under
is exhausted
Whose sack of provisions
If the day
is done
is empty
If birds
sing no more
remove shame
before the voyage
If the wind
has fiagged tired
is ended
Then draw
the veil of darkness
The cover of thy kindly night
and poverty
Whose garment
thick upon me
Even as thou
is torn
hast wrapt the earth
with The coverlet of sleep
And renew his life
and dust-laden
and tenderly closed
The petals of
Whose strength
the drooping lotus at dusk
From the traverer