Certain Springs Are Tapped Only When You're

I Believe That What Woman Resents Is Not So Much Giving Herself In Pieces As Giving Herself Purposelessly.

The Wave Of The Future Is Coming And There Is No Fighting It.

These Bright Roofs, These Steep Towers, These Jewel-lakes, These Skeins Of Railroad Line - All Spoke To Her And She Answered. She Was Glad They Were There. She Belonged To Them And They To Her. . . . She Had Not Lost It. She Was Touching It With Her Fingertips. This Was Flying: To Go Swiftly Over The Earth You Loved, Touching It Lightly With Your Fingertips, Holding The Railroads Lines In Your Hand To Guide You, Like A Skein Of Wool In A Spider-web Game - Like Following Ariadne's Thread Through The Minotaur's Maze, Where Would It Lead, Where?

So Many Things We Love Are You!

Yesterday I Sat In A Field Of Violets For A Long Time Perfectly Still, Until I Really Sank Into It - Into The Rhythm Of The Place, I Mean - Then When I Got Up To Go Home I Couldn't Walk Quickly Or Evenly Because I Was Still In Time With The Field.