Frosty In Summer

To say the word "now"
brings icicles to my mind;   A slide
of the Carlsbad caverns.

Nature has lost her teeth
after ten-thousand years
of tyranny.  She lays all gums
in the deep summer of
dense trees.

My sister calls up
the stairs and calls me
to dinner.  Rexroth's
poems warm less and less,
as I determine their meanings.
It seems he has always
search in only one cavern, too.

To say the word "now"
brings snowing at the North Pole.

 

Page 2(Early Poems[1969])