I will be the gladdest thing under the sun! I will touch a hundred flowers and not pick one.

April comes like an idiot, babbling and stewing flowers.

The soul can split the sky in two and let the face of God shine through.

Music my rampart, and my only one.

Night falls fast.
Today is in the past.

Blown from the dark hill hither to my door
Three flakes, then four
Arrive, then many more.

I love humanity but I hate people.