The long silences need to be loved, perhaps more than the words which arrive to describe them in time.

We are created by being destroyed.

The long silences need to be loved, perhaps more than the words which arrive to describe them in time.

I wish my father could be around.

Should each individual snowflake be held accountable for the avalanche?

literature will lose, sunlight will win, don't worry.

Poem in other words may or may not result from inspiration but must (in reader and author alike) produce it--