Around Me The Trees Stir In Their

When It's Over I Don't Want To Wonder If I Have Made Of My Life Something Particular, And Real.

When Will You Have A Little Pity For Every Soft Thing That Walks Through The World, Yourself Included.

Do You Cherish Your Humble And Silky Life?

What Can We Do About God, Who Makes And Then Breaks Every God-forsaken, Beautiful Day?

And Now I Understand Something So Frightening &wonderful- How The Mind Clings To The Road It Knows, Rushing Through Crossroads, Sticking Like Lint To The Familiar.