Trio No. 14

1. 

One who has loved long is like one who has written a novel, who can look back over a broad arc and see development, character, shape. 

Is it a good novel?

One who has loved briefly is like one who has written a poem, and has turned the page to begin writing of the next fleeting, intense flame. 

Is it a good poem?

2.

I can remember many pairs of childhood shoes, but few names of childhood friends. 

I can find my way to the lake through the woods, but can rarely find my way into a crowded room. 

I can think for hours of many things, but nearly always keep them to myself. 

3. 

A list of objects and compound objects:

A spot of wine on the countertop; red or white. 

Three scarves, having fallen from their hooks. 

A child's drawing, framed. 

A pot of rice, now cold. 

An iron helmet. How heavy?

A book containing the names of convicted criminals. 

A length of rope. Linen. 

A length of hose. Rubber. 

A pile of sand. Not enough. 

Soil in a garden. 

Hands, badly bruised. 

A book of Latin grammar. 

An old jar of formaldehyde. 

A television set. 

A canary. 

A can.