4/1/1939
      War
      The wide sweep of your living dwindles me And my horizon to a hole-in-wall Room for no movement save the roving eye's And cat acquaintance with a gutter world.
      You in your spring possess the greening leaf The early leap from bed, the splashing song
      As from a water-tap the fountain falls---
      Inundate bliss, skin open to barrage.
      And inwardly your mind takes broader scope From its environment; a sea-plane set Amidst the fuzz of foam, but free to rise And storm the volleys of the alien fire.
      Compared with yours, my thoughts limp in their gait And seem a feeble protest when the guns roar out.