The poem has a social effect of some kind whether or not the poet wills it to have. It has a kenetic force, it sets in motion...elements in the reader that would otherwise remain stagnant.

Every day, every day I hear enough to fill a year of nights with wondering.

Two girls discover the secret of life in a sudden line of poetry.

Grief is a hole you walk around in the daytime and at night you fall into it.

Very few people really see things unless they've had someone in early life who made them look at things. And name them too. But the looking is primary, the focus.

There comes a time when only anger is love.

Yes, he is here in this open field, in sunlight, among the few young trees set out to modify the bare facts-- he's here, but only because we are here. When we go, he goes with us to be your hands that never do violence, your eyes that wonder, your lives that daily praise life by living it, by laughter. He is never alone here, never cold in the field of graves.