Most near, most dear, most loved and most far,
Under the window where I often found her
Most near, most dear, most loved, and most far,
Under the huge window where I often found her
Not less light shall the gold and the green lie
On the cyclonic curl and diamonded eye, than
I looked into my heart to write
And found a desert there.
But when I looked again I heard
what do pandas say?
as among the rocks they r
January jumps about
in the frying pan
trying to heat
his frozen feet
like a Canadian.
Today, recovering from influenza,
I begin, having nothing worse to do,
This autobiography that