“THOREAU KNOWS (The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation.) Making sense of things, Trying to track Nine pebbles of sadness To their source. Sly crows Stole them a mile back, But Thoreau knows I should walk anyway Under sun-coined trees Thick with wood-thrush song Till I reach undergrowth Dense and itchy with the past Till the air cools and I am near Enough to con crow talk Mouth fulls, stories dark.” SadnessForestThe PastCrowsThoreau Book:Reincarnation & Other Stimulants: Life, Death, & In-Between Poems Source: Reincarnation & Other Stimulants: Life, Death, & In-Between Poems