Memory, as in it may be so (Stein Poem)
Was it other than that which is so.
Now think it was always so.
A share so. A while so.
Now not to think might be thought quietly.
Every day there is no beginning.
There is what they were only.
I have only. I can be only.
I think just like boxwood.
I think it is how I think.
Every day there is what they could.
I wish as much was how much.
I like it to happen like I count it.
It distributes. I like this very much.
Now to ask a little bird how.
Every little bird is here.
And dew too. The moon may remain too.
May be clear so. May be partly so.
I think I see two. I know I thought three.
To think of this is memory. It has to be.
Any grievance has a beginning.
Composed with jGnoetry and the following source text:
Gertrude Stein, Stanzas in Meditation, The Corrected Edition