The Annunciation

I walked by shallow streams at dusk,
Trickling with gleams of light
Fading gold with rays of dust,
The rich red garment of the night
Bent terrible with birdsong.

I gazed on moms’ red-blushing babes,
The crimson stains of fields by rose-
Soft glimmering pools of moonlight:
Groaning, crying, squirming, close-
Held screaming in the night

You Clytemnestra for a mother, burn
Like a flickering torch, burn
Like an ardent bark, and cascade
Through these shallow, dark-bearing streams
To all the sullen reaches

Where the wild wanderer’s call
For all the teeming wretches
Beggared in sleep steeped up in scum
Like some beast’s savage run
Spreads out to all.