SWAYING TREE TOPS 



stance, when you leave your friend 

 you touch your two fingers to his and 

 remember only the silliness of the 

 thing. 



The idea that pleasure is com- 

 pounded out of a variety of ingredi- 

 ent emotions has set people on a 

 chase for it. I have yet to hear of 

 such a chaser ever overtaking his ob- 

 ject. It requires sensitiveness to feel 

 pleasure. The blase, the world-cal- 

 loused, feel it not. 



This morning the bare trees stand 

 stripped of leaves, the grass is brown, 

 frost lies over everything. A cloudy 

 sky caps down the landscape with 

 gloom. There is no bird note, nor 

 sign of life. Not many weeks ago 

 the air at morning was vibrant with 

 melody, but, as this chill has settled 



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