Life Is So Rotatory That The Wilderness

A Light Exists In Spring Not Present In The Year At Any Other Period When March Is Scarcely Here.

Till I Loved I Never Lived.

Write Me Of Hope And Love, And Hearts That Endured.

If I Read A Book And It Makes My Whole Body So Cold No Fire Can Warm Me, I Know That Is Poetry. If I Feel Physically As If The Top Of My Head Were Taken Off, I Know That Is Poetry. These Are The Only Ways I Know It. Is There Any Other Way?

Pardon My Sanity In A World Insane