I Stood In The Lee Of An

And Love Became The World's Origin And The World's Ruler, Yet Littered Its Path Is With Flowers And Blood, Flowers And Blood.

Small Jerks Began To Appear In My Legs, My Walk Became Unsteady Precisely Because I Wanted It To Be Smooth.

Heaven Knows That There Are Plenty Of Opportunities In Later Life, Too, For Being Carried Away. What Of It? We Remain What We Are And, No Doubt, It Is All Very Good For Us!

A Few Days Back Someone Sent Me Two Feathers. Two Bird's Feathers In A Sheet Of Note-paper With A Coronet, And Fastened With A Seal. Sent From A Place A Long Way Off; From One Who Need Not Have Sent Them Back At All. That Amused Me Too, Those Devilish Green Feathers.

In Old Age We Are Like A Batch Of Letters That Someone Has Sent. We Are No Longer In The Past, We Have Arrived.