There was poetry for those who couldn’t pause: disappointed daisies caught briefly in the eddies of their passing, while adding, just a bit, to a certain something in the air And poetry for those who couldn’t go: sunlight dancing through the clouds and leaves too refined to touch the ground that chilled the bone and sapped the soul And poetry for those whose bounty overflowed: every hue and every sound, all simplicity and all profound love and hate and life and death articulate with poesy’s breath And poetry for those who shut it out: never doubt.