LORCA
When veins congeal
And gesture is confounded
When pucker frowns no more
And voice's door
    
    Is Shut forever
      
        
On such a night
My bed will shrink
To single size
My heart hammer
When life-loud clamor
While someone covers up the eyes.
A prophecy is given.
When you lived
Day shone from your face
Now the sun's rays search
And find no answering torch.
If you were living now
This cliffside tree
With its embracing bough
Would speak to me. 
If you were speaking now
The waves below
Would be the organ stops
For breath to blow. 
And if your rigid head
Flung back its hair
Gulls in a sickle flight
Would circle there...
A prophecy is given.
You are alive!
O grass flash emerald sight
Dash of dog for ball
And skipping rope's bright blink
Lashing the light.
High in cloud 
The sunset fruits are basketed
And fountains curl their plumes
On Statue stone.
In secret thicket mould
Lovers defend their hold
Old couples hearing whisperings
Touch in a handclasp, quivering.
For you sang out aloud
Arching the silent wood
To stretch itself, tiptoe
Above the crowd...