CHARITY BEGINS AT HOME
The Big Dipper comes down from the sky and flounces.
The Double Dipper works just as hard stealing money.
The flowers of Spring are now twisting and twirling,
crawling up fences and lampposts and every little
thing with a point they can cling to - bugs and flowers,
the fragrant politeness of what the world has to offer.
I still care for nothing. I still am non-plussed.
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This happens each year : this frenzy of the beetle,
the ravaging of ants, the quick, unfettered walk
and fly of every Robin in the world. Everything,
it seems, has come home to roost. That same
home, I would dearly suppose, where this
Charity is supposed to begin.
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