Will tick its last
And the flame will go down in the flower.
A briefer length of moon
Will mark the sea-line and the yellow dune.
Then we may think of this, yet
There will be something forgotten
And something we should forget.
It will be like all things we know :
A stone will fail; a rose is sure to go.
It will be quiet then and we may stay
Long at the picket gate,
But there will be less to say.
Published in Fire!! Devoted to the Younger Negro Artists, November 1926