Looking at the wall
I'm tired of it.
Turning the light and clock off,

Not yesterday, not tomorrow nor today,
Not here, not there nor where you are,
In the sinking dark
Flickering like a lighting bug,
The stopped "I"
"My grief" like dumb...

Now when spring comes
With sun-burned red azaleas on the hill
I'll kick out the wall and run to cry out loud
Like the dumb! Oh, the wall.

(written in 1936)