This is the place for everything that doesn't have a better place.
So, for the time being, a poem that my grandfather wrote awhile back:
I CANNOT see the wind, and yet it draws by secret laws;
The moon I see, yet never that which brings
The waters welling from their coraled springs;
And when the rainbow stands
Over the shimmering lands,
I think some ancient promise lifts up her regal hands.
I have known many a friend --
Come from the world's end
Down echoing starways of recurring years --
Stand with the startled grace
Of knowledge in his face
And sudden wonder smiting nigh to tears:
So now I dare not say
In any careless way
That death could be so dark as not to bring the day.
Lanterns in Gethsemane (1918)
See his tribute (?) to Carrie Nation, on the web.