Driven through by her own sword, summer died last night, alone. - Joanna Newsom

So it would seem to be true: when cruel birth debases, we forget.
When cruel death debases,
we believe it erases all the rest
that precedes.
But stand brave, life-liver,
bleeding out your days
in the river of time.
Stand brave:
time moves both ways

I know we must abide
each by the rules that bind us here:
the divers, and the sailors, and the women on the pier.

With the loneliness
of you mighty men,
with your mighty kiss
that might never, never end,
while, so far away,
in the seat of the West,
burns the fount
of the heat
of that loneliness.