I lie here thinking of you:—— the stain of love is upon the world! Yellow, yellow, yellow it eats into the leaves,

The rose is obsolete but each petal ends in an edge, the double facet cementing the grooved columns of air ——The edge

It is a willow when summer is over… a willow by the river from which no leaf has fallen nor bitten by the sun turned orange or crimson.

When the snow falls the flakes spi… that concerns them most intimately two and two to make a dance the mind dances with itself, taking you by the hand,

The over-all picture is winter icy mountains in the background the return from the hunt it is toward evening from the left

Leaves are graygreen, the glass broken, bright green.

The half-stripped trees struck by a wind together, bending all, the leaves flutter drily and refuse to let go

The brutal Lord of All will rip us from each other—leave the one to suffer here alone. No need belief in god or hell to postulate that much. The dance: hands touching, leaves touch...

Let the snake wait under his weed and the writing be of words, slow and quick, sharp to strike, quiet to wait,

The grass is very green, my friend… and tousled, like the head of —— your grandson, yes? And the mounta… the mountain we climbed twenty years since for the last

My townspeople, beyond in the grea… are many with whom it were far mor… profitable for me to live than her… These whirr about me calling, call… and for my own part I answer them,…

Trundled from the strangeness of the sea —— a kind of heaven —— Ladies and Gentlemen!

This is a slight stiff dance to a waking baby whose arms have been lying curled back above his head upon the pillow, making a flower—the eyes closed. Dead to the world! Waking is a...