As the stars hide in the light before daybreak
Reed warblers hunt along the narrow stream
Trout rise to their shadows
Milky light flows through the branches
Fills with blood
Men will be waking
In an hour it will be summer
I dreamed that the heavens were eating the earth
Waking it is not so
Not the heavens
I am not ashamed of the wren’s murders
Nor the badger’s dinners
On which all worldly good depends
If I were not human I would not be ashamed of anything
— W.S. Merwin, from The Lice (Atheneum, 1967)
“If I were not human I would not be ashamed of anything”
Truth teller, William, … you have been a truth teller all these years, … and still!
With care, margo