Tower

TWO POEMS

TOWER

These moles of upper air, the ghosted tenants

Of this thin place

Hear nothing of the silver scattered

On rat's warren, spider's lace.

The air shakes, uninvaded

They curl their paws

Closer for warmth ; the wave ebbs,

Withdraws.

Few wake to hear,

Detecting rust

On tongue and clapper ; the hands atug at the rope

Are scarcely more than dust.