Nothing Is The Force That Renovates The

I Dwell In Possibilities... A Fairer House Than Prose.

Life Is So Rotatory That The Wilderness Falls To Each, Sometime.

A Dim Capacity For Wings Demeans The Dress I Wear.

Forever Is Comprised Of Nows.

She Died--this Was The Way She Died; And When Her Breath Was Done, Took Up Her Simple Wardrobe And Started For The Sun. Her Little Figure At The Gate The Angels Must Have Spied, Since I Could Never Find Her Upon The Mortal Side.