but ideas are obscure and nothing should be obscure tonight.

you will live half the year in a house by the sea and half the year in

. . . . .a house in our arms

we peer into the future and see you happy and hope it is a sign that we

. . . . .will be happy too, something to cling to, happiness

the least and best of human attainments.

poem read at joan mitchell's

frank o'hara