by Marianne Moore
My father used to say,
"Superior people never make long visits,
have to be shown Longfellow's grave
or the glass flowers at Harvard.
Self-reliant like the cat--
that takes its prey to privacy,
the mouse's limp tail hanging like a shoelace from its mouth--
they sometimes enjoy solitude,
and can be robbed of speech
by speech that delighted them.
The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence:
not silence, but restraint."
Nor was he insincere in saying, "Make my house your inn."
Inns are not residences.
* Ezra Pound: Poetry is news that stays news.