Perhaps we ought to feel with more imagination.

As today the sky 0 degrees above zero with lines falling

The way September moves a lace curtain to be near a pear

The oddest device can’t be usual. And that is where

The pejorative sense of fear moves axles. In the stars

There is no longer any peace, emptied like a cup of coffee

Between the blinding rain that interviews.

You were my quintuplets when I decided to leave you

Opening a picture book the pictures were all of grass

Slowly the book was on fire, you the reader

Sitting with specs full of smoke exclaimed

How it was a rhyme for “brick” or “redder.”

The next chapter told all about a brook.

You were beginning to see the relation when a tidal wave

Arrived with sinking ships that spelled out “Aladdin”.

I thought about the Arab boy in his cave

But the thoughts came faster than advice

If you knew that snow was a still toboggan in space

The print could rhyme with “fallen star.”