If you had come away with me 
into another state 
we had been quiet together. 
But there the sun coming up 
out of the nothing beyond the lake was 
too low in the sky, 
there was too great a pushing 
against him, 
too much of sumac buds, pink 
in the head 
with the clear gum upon them, 
too many opening hearts of lilac leaves, 
too many, too many swollen 
limp poplar tassels on the 
bare branches! 
It was too strong in the air. 
I had no rest against that 
springtime! 
The pounding of the hoofs on the 
raw sods 
stayed with me half through the night. 
I awoke smiling but tired.