Page:The Pot of Earth.pdf/52

 I feel the wind as the numb earth feels it. I feel the heavy seed in the warm dark And the spring ripening—

And what is this to be a woman? Why, To be a woman, a sown field. Let us Attribute a significance perhaps Not ours to what we are compelled to be By being it: as privately forestall The seed’s necessity by welcoming The necessary seed; likewise prevent Death with the apothegm that all men die. Yes. And then wake alone at night and lie here