Parading

rock-tight, then loosening like scarves the wind takes

Just as I ought. My vision, becoming pure,

I nodded, slept—and without my watching, the world,

the sting of  joy, a lilt of crimson,

For there is a dram.

And I followed, the way one life follows

Guilty of dust and sin.

where a ray of the sun, naked, stood still

For once on the face of the earth,

I always imagine those gates