FOR GARCIA LORCA 1.
    
    
      
      
        
When veins congeal
    
    
      And gesture is confounded 
When puckor frowns no more
And voice's door 
Is shut forever 
On such a night
My bed will shrink
To single size
sheets go cold 
My heart hammer 
With life-loud clamor 
While someone covers up the eyes.
Ears are given 
To hear the silence driven in
Nailed down. 
And we descend now down from heaven
Into earth's mould, down. - - -
    
    a prophecy is given
      
        When you lived
        
Day shone from your face 
Now the sun 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 sneaking 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 ropes blink bright- Lashing the light. 
High in cloud