The Hounded Lovers

Where shall we go?

Where shall we go

who are in love?

Juliet went

to Friar Laurence's cell,

but we have no rest.

Rain water lies

on the hard-packed ground,

reflecting the morning sky,

But where shall we go?

We cannot resolve ourselves

into a dew

Or sink into the earth.

Shall we postpone it

to Eternity?

The dry heads

of the goldenrod,

turned to stiff ghosts,

Jerk at their dead

stalks, signalling hieroglyphs

of grave warning.

Where shall we go?

The movement of benediction

does not turn back

the cold wind.