I Measure Every Grief I Meet With

They Might Not Need Me; But They Might. I'll Let My Head Be Just In Sight; A Smile As Small As Mine Might Be Precisely Their Necessity.

Speech Is One Symptom Of Affection; And Silence One; The Perfect Communication Is Heard Of None.

Then, As Horizons Step, Or Noons Report Away,without The Formula Of Sound, It Passes, And We Stay:a Quality Of Loss Affecting Our Content.

I Dwell In Possibilities... A Fairer House Than Prose.

A Courteous, Yet Harrowing Grace, As Guest, That Would Be Gone