To clear the drifts of spring Of our forebear's excrements And bury the subconscious archives Under unaffected flowers Indeed- Our person is a covered entrance to infinity Choked with the tatters of tradition Goddesses and Young Gods Caress the sanctity of Adolescence In the shaft of the sun. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MOTHER (MARGERY CARRUTH, 1896-1981) by HAYDEN CARRUTH SPRING NOTES FROM ROBIN HILL by HAYDEN CARRUTH |