What it is, the literal size incorporates. The question is a mute question. One is too lonely, one wants to stop there, at the edge of conception. The woman imperative, the man lost in stern thought: give it form certainly, the name and titles. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...YOUTH PENETRANT by CONRAD AIKEN THE MOUNTAIN WHIPPOORWILL (A GEORGIA ROMANCE) by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET A PORTRAIT OF MY ROOF by JAMES GALVIN THE SUICIDE by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SIXTEEN MONTHS by CARL SANDBURG |