So excellent a journey; such fruition in the weeds
Of his memory, the bargain made with God: I’ll
Ignore you if you ignore me. The wild mustard waves
To him in the Santa Ana winds: Anything could be in there,
Worlds of birth and death. He hears the dog-day cicada's
Song with a latent wonder that won’t be recognized,
The tat-a-tat rattle received in his mind with slight disgust
But in his heart with wonder: God broke the bargain,
Unawares—-The mustard, wondrous yellow, such yellow;
The song loud, brazen! Listen. He claps his hands and silence
Follows, but not for long. They’ll sing again when he passes,
And pass he will, taller than the weeds, for the present.