SHINGLE-SHORT
You’re very still, an’ beautiful....
You’re like I guess a hand ’ud be,
A-comin’ quietly an’ cool,
When all the head was hot like this,
Over the eyelids, firm an’ full....
An’ whisperin’ “Hush!” an’ “Never mind!
I got you safe,—you go to sleep!”
An’ drawin’ o’ you back to rest,
Tired-baby-like, on some big Breast,
All good, and comfortin’ an’ deep....
....Thunder! In sizin’ up just now
This general-gatherum-run-to-rot,
Dash’d if I ain’t forgot somehow—
I have!—I been an’ clean forgot,
(Me an’ the wood in such a plight),
Him as was third in the invite,
Him as is back of all the lot—
God!
Oh, thank Goodness, God! You’re left!
My! Don’t it take the breath....
I say,
Was I clean crazy an’ bereft?
Ain’t I one sparkicle o’ wit?
Fussin’ an’ fossickin’ throughout
The whole live world, an’ leavin’ out
The very livest bit of it!
God—that lit up they stars with light:
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