This style sounded familiar;
"My clumsiest dear, whose hands shipwreck vases,
At whose quick touch all glasses chip and ring,
Whose palms are bulls in china, burs in linen,
And have no cunning with any oft thing
Except all ill-at-ease fidgeting people:
The refugee uncertain at the door
You make at home; deftly you steady
The drunk clambering on his undulant floor.
Unpredictable dear, the taxi drivers' terror,
Shrinking from far headlights pale as a dime.
Yet leaping before red apoplectic streetcars-
Misfit in any space. And never on time-
A wrench in clocks and the solar system. Only
With words and people and love you move at ease.
In traffic of wit expertly manoeuvre
And keep us, all devotion, at your knees.
Forgetting your coffee spreading on out flannel,
Your lipstick ginning on our coat,
So gayly in love's unbreakable heaven
Our souls on glory of split bourbon float.
Be with me, darling, early and late. Smash glasses-
I will study wry music for your sake.
For should your hands drop white and empty
All the toys of the world would break."
John Frederick Nims (1914)
It's a small world and so many lives have travel the same path.