It seems an odd idea to my students that poetry, like all art, leads us away from itself, back to the world in which we live. It furnishes the vision. It shows with intense clarity what is already there.
poetry ... shows with a sudden intense clarity what is already there.
The poor South. Already guilty of slavery, it became guilty of cigarettes.
I don't feel like a survivor. I feel left behind.
nobody alive or dead deserves to be called a poetess.
being asked to decide between your passion for work and your passion for children was like being asked by your doctor whether you preferred him to remove your brain or your heart.