The Afternoon Knows What The Morning Never

All Great Things Are Done For Their Own Sake.

We Can Make A Little Order Where We Are, And Then The Big Sweep Of History On Which We Can Have No Effect Doesn't Overwhelm Us. We Do It With Colors, With A Garden, With The Furnishings Of A Room, Or With Sounds And Words. We Make A Little Form, And We Gain Composure.

What Are We? Young Or New? We Must Be Something.

When I Was Young My Teachers Were The Old. I Gave Up Fire For Form Till I Was Cold.

Leaves And Bark, Leaves And Bark, To Lean Against And Hear In The Dark. Petals I May Have Once Pursued. Leaves Are All My Darker Mood.