Last summer, in the blue heat,
Over the beach, in the burning air,
A legless beggar lurched on calloused
To where I waited with the sun-dazed birds.
He said, "The summer boils away.
My
Joins to another life; this parched
Dries and dies and flakes away,
Becomes your costume when the torn leaves blow."—Thus in the losing autumn,
Over the streets,
I now
Legless to your side and speak your
Under a gray sky ripped
By thunder and the changing wind.
