Comes Softly Greed
Ernest Slyman
When I hear the tremulous cries
Of insects at dawn,
I think at last I understand
The world's yearning for power and money,
Which comes to burst in the skulls of men
Like insects softly calling to one another,
Begging for love, and out of such loneliness
Comes envy, which makes them dance
And beat their wings in the sun's bright tomorrow,
Deadly afraid some bit of summer shall fall and pounce,
And steal the grass from out of their mouths.
