Willow Willow Willow
Her song like a letting she unclasped Her buttons with slow fingers lest she be too warm saying I was Trained up to my book—and careful not to neglect small necessities Following honest exercises her hand at her thin Neck walking on seams of frozen snow then going hard under the black iron street Lamp wavering in willow willow willow: Her salt tears fell from her and softened the stones Hie thee and hie thee and Hie thee Easy to sing, then, in a fluttering caw sound (like a hollow Fire): desiring to be: (when was it that I bloomed?) (who is it that knocks): waiting without— at the locked door for a key