Flash-lights

I candles toppling sideways in tomato cans Sputter and sizzle at head and foot. The gaudy patterns of a patch-work quilt Lie smooth and straight Save where upswelling over a silent shape. A man in high boots stirs something on a rusty stove Round and round and round, As a new cry like a bleating lamb’s Pierces his brain. After a time the man busies himself With hammer and nails and rough-hewn lumber, But fears to strike a blow. Outside the moonlight sleeps white upon the plain And the bark of a coyote shrills across the night. II A smell of musk Comes to him pungently through the darkness. On the screen Scenes from foreign lands, Released by the censor, Shimmer in cool black and white Historic information. He shifts his seat sideways, sideways— A seeking hand creeps to another hand, And a leaping flame Illuminates the historic information. III Within the room, sounds of weeping Low and hushed: Without, a man, beautiful with the beauty Of young strength, Holds pitifully to the handle of the door. He hiccoughs and turns away, While a hand-organ plays, “The hours I spend with thee, dear heart.”