Saturday, March 23, 2013
from
THE OLD POET SAYS
“If you must
count, count
in the ear,
not on your
fingers.”
*
“All the stars are
set in heaven
and for naught
do men make plans.
The grind stone grinds.
It grinds, and what
it grinds is us.”
*
“The plan has
not been grand -
sometimes we
dine divine;
sometimes we
eat each other.”
