Wednesday, November 11, 2015


                    Of this, of that, of almost anything—
                    I never tired of inquiring;
                    I once was England’s foremost essayist,
                    My curiosity the busiest
                    Of anyone I knew, insatiable,
                    And of my scribblings I had cartons full:
                    Of fame, of honor, and of glory I
                    Aspired by always asking what and why
                    And who and how and wherefore endlessly,
                    Urgent to fathom all reality.
                        And though I’d never be definitive,
                        I prayed that my attempts to know might live.