There Is A Grace Of

This Morning Of The Small Snow I Count The Blessings, The Leak In The Faucet Which Makes Of The Sink Time, The Drop Of The Water On Water.

You Don't Help People In Your Poems. I've Been Trying To Help People All My Life - That's My Trouble

Forgive Me If I Sleep Until I Wake Up.

There Is A Grace Of Life Which Is Still Yours, My Dear Europe.

All That Matters Is That The Thing Be The Thing Of The Thing.