Light

Last night I fled until I came

To streets where leaking casements dripped

Stale lamplight from the corpse of flame;

A nervous window bled.

The moon swagged in the air.

Out of the mist a girl tossed

Spittle of song; a hoarse light

Spattered the fog with heavy hair.

Damp bells in a remote tower

Sharply released the throat of God,

I leaned to the erect night

Dead as stiff turf in winter sod.

Then with the careless energy

Of a dream, the forward curse

Of a cold particular eye

In the headlong hearse.