I give you what I have in posts
For we are poor in other ways;
We walk along the waterside
And dream of nights, amid these days,

    Of multitude, and lassitude,
    And attitude, and power:
    A sun that shines on shoulders cold,
    A view atop the tower —

I give you what I have in posts:
To walk in joy, to sleep with ghosts,
To hear the water, as we should,
And try to make gold out of wood —

    For augury, and penury,
    And apathy, and yearning
    Are how we’ll have to warm ourselves
    With not else left for burning —

I give you what I have in posts —
To climb upon, to walk beside,
To mark in passing as you ride
Toward what you want and need the most,

    For everything and anything
    And all the things that bind us,
    There are still posts that mark the cage
    That formerly confined us

    And we are waves upon the sea,
    A wave within a larger host
    To lap up on eternity
    And brush the careful dawn

    In posts