Why Write?

Ay poets
Ay people
Toronto, Canada
Continents, Africa, Asia
I am a camera, microscope
I am a typewriter, telescope

I have and I shall write
Write of leaves and grass
Write of gold, of bronze and brass
Write of the drop, sea-sun as mass

As a poet with grip
I am in charge and will
Write of hate, write of love
Write of snow and the cloud
Write of peace and the wars

Oh I shall and I will
Write of breast
From being a pin-sized
To chestnut and walnut
All the way to the time
That you liked, so did I
And the time that a child
Sucks the milk for the life

I shall leave what I write
For the time as the guide
“This is life in our time.”