Above the Dock
Above the quiet dock in midnight,
Tangled in the tall mast’s corded height,
Hangs the moon. What seemed so far away
Is but a child’s balloon, forgotten after play.
Seek simplicity and distrust it.
The man who insists on seeing with perfect clearness before he decides, never decides.
The Bright Field I have seen the sun break through to illuminate a small field for a while, and gone…