Seclusion: He sits companionless, in isolation
From the world he has cast off, his domain
Smoothed of all society. Only birds remain
To watch him in communication.

He enters with himself, in meditation:
Of his present juncture, his pain,
And solitude descending on his soul again,
Accosting his vigilance with vexation.

His hands in vigorous motion, fighting
And wrestling with words upon the page,
Attempting to direct them with his writing.

He forces them from fingers that wrinkle up his age,
Capturing all life with them, delighting
As his soul, released, flies the reclusive cage.

                                       1975