from unfold! unfold! theodore roethke.
sing, sing, you symbols! all simple creatures, all small shapes, willow-shy, in the obscure haze, sing! a light song comes from the leaves. a slow sigh says yes. and light sighs; a low voice, summer-sad.
we are not idle: summer, 1944. brewster ghiselin
Never busier. Listening and reading, waiting, Treading where we have trodden, working, winking, Hating, hailing, blurring the banners, shouting, For Europe sings like a kitchen before our feasting. And we do not hear the ancient Darkness thicking.
from the still time. galway kinnell.
I remember those summer nights when I was young and empty, when I lay through the darkness wanting, wanting, knowing I would have nothing of anything I wanted— that total craving that hollows the heart out irreversibly.