It doesn't take much to fill my life,
a sweep of sky, a ride at dusk,
these wooded hills,
a roof over these books,
a line that's true out of the blue
{in dark accidents, the mind's sufficient grace),
and two or three close friends
who know me best,
and still come 'round sometimes,
sometimes read me maybe,
sometimes even say so,
and sometimes is enough,
two or three's enough
and more than I expect,
writing as I must,
human and pathetic,
as desperate as all the rest
for like me, like me, like me...
—with a line by Delmore Schwartz
