Let me walk through the fields of paper touching with my wand dry stems and stunted butterflies.
Writing poetry is a process of discovery...you can smell the poem before you see it....Like some animal.
Marvelous Truth, confront us at every turn, in every guise.
We must breathe time as fishes breathe water.
The artist must create himself or be born again.
Every day, every day I hear enough to fill a year of nights with wondering.