Tree with a Bird in it — The Symposium Leading Nowhere by Corinne Roosevelt Robinson

THE SYMPOSIUM LEADING NOWHERE

I sing of the joy of the Small Paths The paths that lead nowhere at all, (Though I never have gone on them nevertheless They are admirable, and so small!

) I go out at midnight in motors But, being a Roosevelt, I drive Straight ahead on the neatly paved highway, For I wish with much speed to arrive.

Oh, the joy and effulgence of Small Paths Surrounded with Birds and with Trees I would love to go down on a Small Path And sit in communion with these!

Oh, Grackle, I yearn to be with you, For poetic communion I yearn But I have ten engagements to speak in the suburbs And alas, I've no time to return.

_Oh alas, the undone moments,_ _Oh, the myriad hours bereft_ _Trying to be twenty people_ _And to do things right and left.

_ _I would sit down by a Small Path_ _And would make me a Large Rhyme_ _I should love to find my soul there_ _But I haven't got the time!

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