Shake The Tree Of Life Itself And

Are We No Greater Than The Noise We Make Along One Blind Atomic Pilgrimage Whereon By Crass Chance Billeted We Go Because Our Brains And Bones And Cartilage Will Have It So?

This Morning I Deleted The Hyphen From "hell-bound" And Made It One Word; This Afternoon I Redivided It And Restored The Hyphen.

For Through It All--above, Beyond It All-- I Know The Far-sent Message Of The Years, I Feel The Coming Glory Of The Light.

I Wonder More And More Just Where I May Have Come Out If I Had Never Seen Harvard Square.

The Stillness Of October Gold Went Out Like Beauty From A Face.