QUOTE : The life spills over, some days.<br />She cannot be at rest,<br />Wishes she could explode<br /><br />Like that red tree—<br />The one that bursts into fire<br />All this week.<br /><br />Senses her infinite smallness<br />But can’t seize it,<br />Recognizes the folly of desire,<br /><br />The folly of withdrawal—<br />Kicks at the curb, the pavement,<br />If only she could, at this moment,<br /><br />When what she’s doing is plodding<br />To the bus stop, to go to school,<br />Passing that fiery tree—if only she could<br /><br />Be making love,<br />Be making a painting,<br />Be exploding, be speeding through the universe<br /><br />Like a photon, like a shower<br />Of yellow flames—<br />She believes if she could only catch up<br /><br />With the riding rhythm of things, of her own electrons,<br />Then she would be at rest—<br />If she could forget school,<br /><br />Climb the tree,<br />Be the tree,<br />burn like that.