Meditate Nothing. Learn To Contemplate.

Than Smoke And Mist Who Better Could Appraise The Kindred Spirit Of An Inner Haze?

Forgive Me My Nonsense, As I Also Forgive The Nonsense Of Those That Think They Talk Sense.

They Cannot Scare Me With Their Empty Spaces Between Stars—on Stars Where No Human Race Is. I Have It In Me So Much Nearer Home To Scare Myself With My Own Desert Places.

Writing A Poem Is Discovering.

The Footpath Down To The Well Is Healed.