ALLEGRO

The mounds stir in the sunshine.

Bones clack a light staccato.

Bare wrist bones,

Thigh bones,

Ankle bones,

Kick the soil loose.

Moldy draperies flutter back and forth through the light.

The trees have put on a thin green pretense.

Even the soil pretends to fecundity.

Toothless jaws widen in a smile of real mirth.

Bones lightened of flesh

Flash in the sunshine.

And afterward

The dead rest in the spring night,

Each in a silence molded to him,

Each in his own night,

A casket with a spangled lining.

The dead rest deep in their happiness.