Page 59
By Jack Joseph Smith
Sequence I
Quiet when there
Loud when gone
Loud when there
Quiet when gone
This the essence
Of twice what is wrong
A spring in the wooded might
A freshness without sightt
Love and war in daylight
No matter of landscape
No matter of shadow
No matter of odds:
Beauty sees; thought knows of all of lost.
Lesson created from pattern
Darkened by cruelity unconvinced by mishap
While sequence becomes a sham become event.
A smear now completely unclear