I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which

The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air—The edge

Beloved you are Caviar of Caviar Of all I love you best O my Japanese bird nest No herring from Norway

The world begins again! Not wholly insufflated the blackbirds in the rain upon the dead topbranches of the living tree,

Each time it rings I think it is for me but it is not for me nor for anyone it merely

Tracks of rain and light linger in the spongy greens of a nature whos… flickering mountain—bulging nearer… ebbing back into the sun hollowing itself away to hold a la…

Leaves are graygreen, the glass broken, bright green.

A three-day-long rain from the eas… an terminable talking, talking of no consequence—patter, patter,… Hand in hand little winds blow the thin streams aslant.

You say love is this, love is that… Poplar tassels, willow tendrils the wind and the rain comb, tinkle and drip, tinkle and drip— branches drifting apart. Hagh!

Old age is a flight of small cheeping birds skimming bare trees

The sky has given over its bitterness. Out of the dark change all day long rain falls and falls

SOFT as the bed in the earth Where a stone has lain— So soft, so smooth and so cool, Spring closes me in With her arms and her hands.

While she sits there with tears on her cheek her cheek on

In the flashes and black shadows of July the days, locked in each other’s a… seem still so that squirrels and colored bird…