And one of my favorite poems which means more to me as the years pass-------THE OVENBIRD by Robert Frost...so right for these sad days since September 11th...

There is a singer everyone has heard
Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird,
Who makes the solid tree trunks sound again.
He says that leaves are old and that for flowers
Mid-summer is to spring as one to ten.
He says the early petal fall is past,
When pear and cherry blossom went down in showers
On sunny days a moment overcast;
And comes that other fall we name the fall.
He says the highway dust is over all.
The bird would cease and be as other birds
But that he knows in singing not to sing.
The question that he frames in all but words
Is what to make of a diminished thing.

Art Thieme