When will government cease being a nuisance to everybody?
Were all moving, moving, moving. Isnt it nice?
There is a grace of life which is still yours, my dear Europe.
I hope you're representing the devil's advocate.
The poem, for me, is simply the first sound realized in the modality of being.
This morning of the small snow I count the blessings, the leak in the faucet which makes of the sink time, the drop of the water on water.