Page 385
By Jack Joseph Smith
Infint
Infint is a sound
Until two
The taking of sight
Movement is as slow
as the grace of a twig
on a high limb
Knowledge and courage
are complete
It iis just that the wide eye
is the stretch im the bark
Never does the infant not know
As much as adult know im death
That is the script
That is why the middle of life
never lasts Through the truth
And that is why the beginning
and the end don't care....