Against This Age

1

The blue beginning of your eyes

Condenses the sprawling and assured

Blue with which the sky retreats

From those obscene confessions known as days.

2

Again, your battling mites of blue

Try to stop the revolving monster of life

And find the indelible persuasiveness

Of single forms within the circling blur.

Sundered bits of a soul

Astonished at their shrunken estate,

They are not sure that they have still survived,

And plead for the conviction of sight.