Life Must Be Kept Up

But These Are Flowers That Fly And All But Sing: And Now From Having Ridden Out Desire They Lie Closed Over In The Wind And Cling Where Wheels Have Freshly Sliced The April Mire.

Let Cloud Shapes Swarm, / Let Chaos Storm, / I Wait For Form.

No Tears In The Writer, No Tears In The Reader. No Surprise In The Writer, No Surprise In The Reader.

Summary Riposte To The Dreary Wail There's No Knowing What Love Is All About. Poets Know A Lot.

Lovers, Forget Your Love And List To The Love Of These She A Window Flower And He A Winter Breeze.