One Need Not Be A Chamber To

To See The Summer Sky Is Poetry, Though Never In A Book It Lie— True Poems Flee—

After A Hundred Years Nobody Knows The Place, Agony, That Enacted There, Motionless As Peace.

The Career Of Flowers Differs From Ours Only Inaudibleness.

Banish Air From Air Divide Light If You Dare

And Then--a Day As Huge As Yesterdays In Pairs, Unrolled Its Horror In My Face-- Until It Blocked My Eyes