America, I've Given You All And Now

You Can't Photograph Everything.

My Books Piled Up Before Me For My Use Waiting In Space Where I Placed Them, They Haven't Disappeared, Time's Left Its Remnants And Qualities For Me To Use -- My Words Piled Up, My Texts, My Manuscripts, My Loves.

Many Seek And Never See, Anyone Can Tell Them Why. O They Weep And O They Cry And Never Take Until They Try Unless They Try It In Their Sleep And Never Some Until They Die. I Ask Many, They Ask Me. This Is A Great Mystery.

I Didn't Know The Names Of The Flowers - Now My Garden Is Gone.

Subject Is Known By What She Sees.