I thought of Donne, and how the pride must war —
Of Manley Hopkins, godlier by far,
His filial bemusement death and birth
Counting the spots of God on this, God's earth.

And then, asleep, I dreamed of Henry Ford
Wandering beardless down orchestral ways
Of factories. A patriarchal lord,
Counting his beads of praise.











Used by permission of the author.