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As I see it, life is an effort to grip before they slip through one's fingers and slide into oblivion, the startling, the ghastly or the blindingly ex...more

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If seeing her an hour before her lastWeak cough into all blackness I could yetBe held by chalk-white walls

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Each day we live is a glass roomUntil we break it with the thrustingOf the spirit and pass throughThe splintered walls to the green pasturesWhere the ...more

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To live at all is miracle enough.

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If seeing her an hour before her lastWeak cough into all blackness I could yetBe held by chalk-white

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The vastest things are those we may not learn.We are not taught to die, nor to be born,Nor how to burnWith love.How pitiful is our enforced returnTo t...more

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Life is too fleet for onomatopoeia.