We in the Virgin Islands work hard, but we play hard, too.
The fairest things have fleetest end,/ Their scent survives their close:/ But the rose's scent is bitterness/ To him that loved the rose!
The simple lack of her is more to me than others' presence.
I have come to the borders of sleep,/ The unfathomable deep/ Forest where all must lose/ Their way.
Out of us all/ That make rhymes,/ Will you choose/ Sometimes -/ As the winds use/ A crack in a wall/ Or a drain,/ Their joy or their pain/ To whistle through -/ Choose me,/ You English words?
There is not any book/ Or face of dearest look/ That I would not turn from now/ To go into the unknown/ I must enter, and leave, alone,/ I know not how.
We feed the kids first. We use the pool water to flush the toilets, ... We are just trying to make things livable.