Thursday, December 02, 2021


This is what I made.
I made it all myself.
And now that it is done,
It’s no good, I’m afraid,
To stick it in a drawer
Or stack it on a shelf.
And there are plenty more,
Dark and all alone.

Why, sure I can attest
And swear by Mars and Jove
That art and bronze are best,
That nothing lives but love:
And make myself a home,
Safe in my metronome.

And worms will not protest.
And grass will not complain.
And some protagonist
Will do it all again,
Good, better, and best,
All washed out by the rain.
So read this if you would.
It may do me some good.

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