Who has said to death,
Go and leave me
For a season.
Let me rest easy.
You are a shirt
Blue and white
Or black
That will go
to Goodwill;
You are
wrinkled papers
and other things
Folded waiting
in the pockets
of time;
And we must make a
New start in
This latter time,
We must have the patience,
And be willing to say :
Leave me for
a season,
As a coursing
Resolute
Heart,
fresh in new thought.