I Have Longed To Move Away

I have longed to move

From the hissing of the spent

And the old terrors' continual

Growing more terrible as the

Goes over the hill into the deep sea;

I have longed to move

From the repetition of salutes,

For there are ghosts in the

And ghostly echoes on paper,

And the thunder of calls and notes.

I have longed to move away but am afraid;

Some life, yet unspent, might

Out of the old lie burning on the ground,

And, crackling into the air, leave me half-blind.

Neither by night's ancient fear,

The parting of hat from hair,

Pursed lips at the receiver,

Shall I fall to death's feather.

By these I would not care to die,

Half convention and half lie.