XIX
Automobiles in a Fog
In the thick fog
under trees thick with leaves
all you clever people are going about
on wheels
with private lights
to your business and pleasures:

your headlights pour their light
before your wheels
for you alone:
no, these are not street-lamps
to light the way for me.

XX
At twilight, twenty years or so ago,
two or three mice would come into the room,
in and out,
under the radiator beside the desk;
now
two or three sparrows stop at the window
to chirp a while—pleasanter company.
Surely, I am not unblessed of God.

XXI
I never thought that I should knock
into a post, reel and feel that I was falling
under the broad wheel that came steadily
along the sunny pavement:
my time-table did not call for any stops.

But the world that slides so smoothly
will suddenly, as it has, fly all to pieces
for us—just us.