Page:Anthology of Magazine Verse (1921).djvu/143

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CACTUS SEED
I
Radiant notesPiercing my narrow-chested room,Beating down through my ceiling—Smeared with unshapenBelly-prints of dreamsDrifted out of old smokes—Trillions of icilyPeltering notesOut of just one canary;All grown to song,As a plant to its stalk,From too long craning at a sky-lightAnd a square of second-hand blue.
Silvery-strident throatSo assiduously serenading me,My brain flinches underThe glittering hail of your notes.Were you not safe behind—rats know what thickness of—plastered wall,I might fathomYour golden deliriumWith throttle of finger and thumb,Shutting valve of bright song.
II
But if—away off—on a fork of grassed earthSocketing an inlet of blue water . . .If canaries—do they sing out of cages?—Flung such luminous notes,They would sink in the spirit,Lie germinal . . .Housed in the soul as a seed in the earth,To break forth at spring with the crocuses into young smiles on the mouth . . .

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