The Giver

I shall bring you apples, green and tart,

Some coral cherries,

And the thick wine I stole last year from purple

Elderberries.

I shall be a carven pipe of music,

Singing lightly;

I shall plant a dead star under a stone

To blossom whitely.

I shall bring you pears and wind-wet acorns,

All to keep;

I shall weave a coat patterned like fire:

Yet should I creep

Behind you, you would not be there - say rather

Some coral cherries:

You are only a mask- and I should drown in the blood

Of elderberries.