Nothing Would Give Up Life: Even The

I Wish I Could Find An Event That Meant As Much As Simple Seeing.

Reason? That Dreary Shed, That Hutch For Grubby Schoolboys.

I Can Hear, Underground, That Sucking And Sobbing, In My Veins, In My Bones I Feel It,- The Small Water Seeping Upward, The Tight Grains Parting At Last. When Sprouts Break Out, Slippery As Fish, I Quail, Lean To Beginnings, Sheath-wet.

What Falls Away Is Always. And Is Near.

I Long For The Imperishable Quiet At The Heart Of Form.