Page 286
By Jack Joseph Smith
Also Ran
Against the threshold
Lighting would not strick if it rained
Her the finest of brown
Me old and falling down
There is a look among us
that jars deep canyons
In a moment I let youth lose its differance
She was so smooth as to be the same
Her skin matched mine
Distant as a dream,, so much young
Though she could not know
How much Cherockee I am
Stardust to Sun,, no love lost in the jungle
Old has let me say that rough,
though it is not my immigation;
to the extream is not a good idea