I Hold It To Be The Inalienable

How Many Things Have To Happen To You Before Something Occurs To You?

The Footpath Down To The Well Is Healed.

Tree At My Window, Window Tree, My Sash Is Lowered When Night Comes On; But Let There Never Be Curtain Drawn Between You And Me.

Never Discuss The Poem You Contemplate Writing. It's Like Turning On The Outside Spigot. It Takes All The Pressure Off The Upstairs Bathroom.

Nature's Never Quite Sure She Hasn't Erred In Her Vague Design.