Unable Are The Loved To Die, For

These Are The Days When Birds Come Back, A Very Few, A Bird Or Two, To Take A Backward Look.

The Truth Never Flaunted A Sign.

A Word That Breathes Distinctly Has Not The Power To Die

The Steeples Swam In Amethyst, The News Like Squirrels Swam.

Portraits Are To Daily Faces As An Evening West To A Fine, Pedantic Sunshine In A Satin Vest.