Suppose the way lay through the air?
Would you with your pink lightning wings,
Go charging across the ocean,
Straight to what you thought was the heart of the world?
The tears of cut grass smell so mellifluous!
Everything spills tears today – from me.
I imagine you at least, free—
Soaring, with those crackling wings,
Reaching at last that space of my torment;
Of my deepest longing.