A Good Meal Can Somewhat Repair /

Courage Is No Good: It Means Not Scaring Others. Being Brave Lets No One Off The Grave. Death Is No Different Whined At Than Withstood.

Most People Know More As They Get Older: I Give All That The Cold Shoulder.

On Me Your Voice Falls As They Say Love Should, Like An Enormous Yes.

The Trees Are Coming Into Leaf Like Something Almost Being Said; The Recent Buds Relax And Spread, Their Greenness Is A Kind Of Grief. Is It That They Are Born Again And We Grow Old? No, They Die Too. Their Yearly Trick Of Looking New Is Written Down In Rings Of Grain. Yet Still The Unresting Castles Thresh In Fullgrown Thickness Every May. Last Year Is Dead, They Seem To Say, Begin Afresh, Afresh, Afresh.

I'd Like To Think...that People In Pubs Would Talk About My Poems