I AND THOU

Must we cultivate our kindness? 

Can webook a fellow-feeling for the sake of the fellow,

not the Ghost? Last night, for example, the whitehaired

girl told us singing was like praying; and that

iron of naturalized note in the bluegrass made me

want to say sublime, sublime to myself, in the Sapphic

sense that knows sublimity as love (O wash me

green as yonder field); and the girl's reed song did

light from the stage, articulating phrases like Heavens

divided in a quaver between forte and whisper, acute

supple wavers among syllables and slants: and now

may you keep me close within your ear; I can hear

the voice I loved when I wondered at its dialect—

you know, if I'm ever able to speak, I'll want

someone human to answer me.