There Is Only One Child

Newspapers Tell Beforehand What Is Going To Happen - Maybe.

The Secret Of Happiness Is To Admire Without Desiring.

There Will Be A Rusty Gun On The Wall, Sweetheart, The Rifle Grooves Curling With Flakes Of Rust. A Spider Will Make A Silver String Nest In The Darkest, Warmest Corner Of It.

Where Was I Going? I Puzzled And Wondered About It Til I Actually Enjoyed The Puzzlement And Wondering.

Poetry Is An Enumeration Of Birds, Bees, Babies, Butterflies, Bugs, Bambinos, Babayagas, And Bipeds, Beating Their Way Up Bewildering Bastions.