The bees build in the crevicesOf loosening masonry, and thereThe mother birds bring grubs and flies.My wall is loosening, honey beesCome build in the empty house of the stare.
We are closed in, and the key is turnedOn our uncertainty; somewhereA man is killed, or a house burned,Yet no clear fact to be discerned:Come build in the empty house of the stare
A barricade of stone or of wood;Some fourteen days of civil war;Last night they trundled down the roadThat dead young soldier in his blood:Come build in the empty house of the stare.
We had fed the heart on fantasies,The heart’s grown brutal from the fare,More substance in our enmitiesThan in our love; oh, honey-beesCome build in the empty house of the stare.