And the stone word has fallen down

On my breast, being alive, awhile …

No matter, I was ready, almost …

I’ll cope, overcome this time.

I’m today completly borrowed, rather,

It is need to kill the memory to end.

It is need for my soul—to harden,

It is need—again to live, as well.

Or … The hot rumble of near summer

Is outside my window as a feast …

I’ve fore-feeled this long ago: coming

Of this bright day and my house—left.