The strong men keep coming on

Five ten a.m. Tuesday
Though the North wind blows,

The strong men keep coming on.
They go down shot, hanged, sick, broken.
They live on, fighting, singing, lucky as plungers.
The strong men ... they keep coming on.
The strong mothers pulling them
from a dark sea, a great prairie, a long mountain.
Call hallelujah, call amen, call deep thanks.
The strong men keep coming on.
Some say the world will end with a flat tire,
Others by lice,
From what I’ve tasted of desire,
Either would be nice
I lived with four different women
Sometimes I am swimming
In mingled memories
This flower is repeated
out of old winds, out of
old times.
The wind repeats these, it
must have these, over and
over again.
Oh, windflowers so fresh,
Oh, beautiful leaves, here
now again.
The wind keeps, the windflowers
keep, the leaves last,
The wind young and strong lets
these last longer than stones.