If to be Left were to be Left Alone

If to be left were to be left alone, And lock the door and find one's self again-

Drag forth and dust Penates of one's own

That in a corner all too long have lain; Read Brahms, read Chaucer, set the chessmen out

In classic problem, stretch the shrunken mind

Back to its stature on the rack of thought- Loss might be said to leave its boon behind. But fruitless conference and the interchange

With callow wits of bearded cons and pros

Enlist the neutral daylight, and derange

A will too sick to battle for repose. Neither with you nor with myself, I spend

Loud days that have no meaning and no end.