document.write("1<br />Only today and just for this minute,<br />when the sunslant finds its true angle,<br />you can see yellow and pinkish leaves spangle<br />our gentle, fluffy tree-<br />suddenly the green summer is momentary...<br />Autumn is my favorite season-<br />why does it change clothes and withdraw?<br /><br />This week the house went on the market-<br />suddenly I woke up among strangers;<br />when I go into a room, it moves<br />with embarrassment, and joins another room.<br /><br />I don\\\'t need conversation, but you to laugh with-<br />you and a room and a fire,<br />cold starlight blowing through an open window-<br />whither?<br /><br />2<br />After sunfall, heaven is melodramatic,<br />a temporary, puckering, burning green.<br />The patched-up oak<br />and blacker, indelible pines<br />have the indigestible meagerness of spines.<br /><br />One wishes heaven had less solemnity:<br />a sensual table<br />with five half-filled bottles of red wine<br />set round the hectic carved roast-<br />Bohemia for ourselves<br />and the familiars of a lifetime<br />charmed to communion by resurrection-<br />running together in the rain to mail a single letter,<br />not the chafe and cling<br />of this despondent chaff.<br /><br />3<br />Yet for a moment, the children<br />could play truant from their tuition.<br /><br />4<br />When I look back, I see a collapsing<br />accordion of my receding houses,<br />and myself receding<br />to a boy of twenty-five or thirty,<br />too shopworn for less, too impressionable for more-<br />blackmaned, illmade<br />in a washed blue workshirt and coalblack trousers,<br />moving from house to house,<br />still seeking a boy\\\'s license<br />to see the countryside without arrival.<br /><br />Hell?<br /><br />Darling,<br />terror in happiness may not cure the hungry future,<br />the time when any illness is chronic,<br />and the years of discretion are spent on complaint-<br /><br />until the wristwatch is taken from the wrist.");