Febuary always finds you folding Local papers open to the faces Who past away to wonder what they'er holding In those hands were never shown the places Formal photographs refuse to mention His tiny feet that birthmark on her knee The tyrany of framing our attention All the eyes their eyes no longer see And darkness comes to early you wont find The many things you owe these latest dead A borrowed book that check you didnt sign Tools to be believed with be beloved Give what you can to keep to comfort this Plain fear you cant distinguish or dismiss