Amy Lowell: The Matrix

The Matrix

Goaded and harassed in the factory  That tears our life up into bits of days  Ticked off upon a clock which never stays, Shredding our portion of Eternity, We break away at last, and steal the key  Which hides a world empty of hours; ways  Of space unroll, and Heaven overlays The leafy, sun-lit earth of Fantasy.  Beyond the ilex shadow glares the sun,  Scorching against the blue flame of the sky. Brown lily-pads lie heavy and supine  Within a granite basin, under one  The bronze-gold glimmer of a carp; and I Reach out my hand and pluck a nectarine.