R. ELLSWORTH LARSSON
335
(a smile
cannot corrupt
the darkened rocks
nor soften the shapes of spears
nor the shade of bloody spears)
Thrust your hands
into the shadows of rocks
into the shadows of thin smiles
nor cringe at what you find. . . .
—let the shadows
cloud the depths of her eyes
strangle her
with omnipotent nays
Throw the body
to the dogs . . .
there are drums for dancers
and wine for those who would laugh
(Thrust your hands
into the shadows of rocks
into the shadows of thin smiles
nor cringe at what you find)
