​ages

Young, I have sung
I have sung young

In glassy pools us fools form
Our figures and linger until the rose-
Pink dawn hit us and we stretched
And fetched our shoes
Our clothes and a blow through in flutes
At you and the others who were growling
Asking, beckoning, so hesitate

The waves and the branches, hell, the morning then
Between orange leaves and foaming grass
Now we must be silent and have our sleep
And if we must fight, let us in our dreams