There is no need to answer this;
the whole cannot be added to.
Walk, though, with accurate light steps away.
Lift each legbone from the pelvis
as you climb stair well or glacis.
Make, if you miss a breath, a tiny stagger
and let the sidewall deflect you back.
Defy nothing, that is for children.
If there are faces, look into them
but look with care; each is a diadem.
What will the tattered lung,
the torn gut and the ripped throat be
but impediment to your song,
the good song that daylong echoes
a dawnlight incommensurable?
Let us close the old, imperfect books
and out of this world’s strangeness
walk without answering,
but in that proud and ancient way,
step upright into death.