'Bird or fowl or evil spirit, puck that rests inside the
	door,
get thee back into the tempest. Haunt Paul Coffey
	nevermore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul
	has spoken!
Leave my emptiness unbroken! Turn off the light
	above the door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form
	from off my door!'
				Quoth the raven, 'Coffey scores.'

And that raven never flitting, still is sitting, still is
	sitting
on the pallid ice of Osgood just inside the chamber
	door.
But the eyes of the Wings seeming of a demon that is
	dreaming,
look to next year. They are screaming for the shot
	they'll have once more.
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating
	on the floor
					shall be lifted up once more.



Ronald Gordon Ziegler  6/12/96


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