God Gave A Loaf To Every Bird,

We Never Know How High We Are Till We Are Called To Rise. Then If We Are True To Form Our Statures Touch The Skies.

After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling Comes — The Nerves Sit Ceremonious, Like Tombs — The Stiff Heart Questions Was It He, That Bore, And Yesterday, Or Centuries Before? The Feet, Mechanical, Go Round — Of Ground, Or Air, Or Ought — A Wooden Way Regardless Grown, A Quartz Contentment, Like A Stone — This Is The Hour Of Lead — Remembered, If Outlived, As Freezing Persons, Recollect The Snow — First — Chill — Then Stupor — Then The Letting Go —

I Measure Every Grief I Meet With Narrow, Probing Eyes - I Wonder If It Weighs Like Mine - Or Has An Easier Size.

September's Baccalaureate A Combination Is Of Crickets - Crows - And Retrospects And A Dissembling Breeze That Hints Without Assuming - An Innuendo Sear That Makes The Heart Put Up Its Fun And Turn Philosopher.

Safe Despair It Is That Raves- Agony Is Frugal. Puts Itself Severe Away For Its Own Perusal.