wondering at absence of storm

where boundaries are not so easy crossed
we do not ask hard questions of the trade
about which errors were too easy made
and how the tempest on this shore them tossed
when we have ascertained the total cost
we'll send them out on the forlorn parade
and laugh when they ask for some hope or shade
for there is none here where all have been lost
your hope and harmony are for this scene
to be the kind of dream that we confect
out of small scraps of half-forgotten woe
while soon we find on waking that the green
and gentle light of morning will connect
us to all those good things we need to know