I was going through my old Life Magazine book and came across this extraordinary face, Edith Sitwell a truly interesting modern poet.
Bells Of Gray Crystal Bells of gray crystal Break on each bough-- The swans' breath will mist all The cold airs now. Like tall pagodas Two people go, Trail their long codas Of talk through the snow. Lonely are these And lonely and I .... The clouds, gray Chinese geese Sleek through the sky. "