Queer

ODD MOMENTS

QUEER

I know that I am sure to find

Some laughter if I look behind

The mumbled hurt a village mutters

Idly and dim behind its shutters,

The silent boy, the tradesman's smiles,

A woman's stare, and dust for miles.

If I could love cold stars and clover,

Sleeping the night, this would be over.

If, being warm, I blessed the sun,

My peace would even so be won.

But I've enough of windy hours;

I am not satisfied with flowers.

I want of men not hate nor love-

Indifference I'm thinking of.