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the same crooked worm
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how at my sheet goes
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to tell the lover’s tomb
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and I am dumb to tell a weather’s wind
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how time has ticked a heaven round the stars
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and I am dumb to tell a weather’s wind
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sores
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shall calm her
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love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
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the lips of time leech to the fountain head
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how of my clay is made the hangman’s lime
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and I am dumb to tell the hanging man
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sail
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hauls my shroud
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stirs the quicksand that ropes the blowing wind
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the hand that whirls the water in the pool
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how at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks
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and I am dumb to mouth unto my veins
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wax
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turns mine to
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dries my red blood that dries the mouthing streams
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the force that drives the water through the rocks
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my youth is bent by the same wintry fever
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and I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
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destroyer
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is my
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that blasts the roots of trees
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drives my green age
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The force that drives the green fuse
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“The force that drives the green fuse” by Dylan Thomas