A poem attributed to Fisher. "Turn this dark maddening chargeAll you I once knew snagged like mothsIn the still web of younger daysRise up from the fresh white foamIn the face of my seaward plungeHowl against my wild run and these wildBlazing eyes-but I hear the callOf how life once had been and such heatIn the crushed chirr of locusts rubbingThe high grasses of a child’s roadAnd the summer was unendingThe days refused to close and I playedSavage and warrior, the heroic nailUpon which worlds pitched and wobbledBlue as newborn iron and these salt-windsWere yet to blow and sink corrosive teethInto my stolid spine and my stiffened ribsThat could take the golden weightOf a thousand destiniesWhere are you now, my unlined facesOn those rich sighing summersWhen we gods ruled feral the wildingWorl