2

Psychic Sperm

In a lost scrap of rude time
In the stones pressing long
Where a brave thing
Found the fate’s string
End assertively shown

For a lost cause she’d find
Seeking out naught but truth
Grumbled wasting
For the May’s sting
Seems it brought something new

Give a long thought to this rite
One and one are now two
Ever bawling
Ever falling
As the ram and the ewe

In the years come will they know
What we found? What we’d do?
What of cold night?
What of daylight?
What of spring’s severed hues?