The glint you glimpse may be the twilight sun
Between the shadow trees, or on the lawn
All unproportioned, where the wild winds run
Grotesquely. Or it may be me, all gone.
Beneath wide hedges, wider nothings yawn,
And nothing’s more nothing than I. I fear
Nothing. Nothing to see here, ma’am. Move on.
You see me smiling, but I am not here. [Read more...]