Page:Al Que Quiere.djvu/18

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For the simple truth is
that though I see you clear enough
you are not there!

It is not that—it is you,
you I want!

—God, if I could fathom
 the guts of shadows!

You to come with me
poking into negro houses
with their gloom and smell!
In among children
leaping around a dead dog!
onto the lawns of the rich!
to go with me a-tip-toe
head down under heaven,
nostrils lipping the wind!


When I was younger
it was plain to me
I must make something of myself.
Older now
I walk back streets
admiring the houses