ADVOCATES

Fugitive firs and larches for a moment

Caught, past midnight, by our headlight beam

On that mad journey through unlasting lands

I cannot put a name to, years ago,

(And my companions drowsy-drunk) – those trees

Resume again their sharp appearance, perfect

Of spur and tassel, claiming memory,

Claiming affection: ‘Will we be included

In the catalogue? Yes, yes?’ they plead.

Green things, you are already there enrolled.

And should a new resentment gnaw in me

Against my dear companions of that journey

(Strangers already then, in thought and deed)

You shall be advocates, charged to deny

That all the good I lived with them is lost.

[From Collected Poems (1938)]