No worries, No Vanity, No Inequality

Yes slip to your places of principled care,
to the poorest and freest and loveliest there.

For locked in your box on a single road,
on the path to adventure as onwards you strode,

you ate of forgiveness, forgiveness of self,
and picked up the chalice of sensual health;

the not knowing the patches of baldness of bare,
the rocklands of shadow that watched for you there.