Till I, high in the tower of my time Among familiar ruins, began to cry For accident, sickness, justice, war and crime, Because all died, because I had to die. The snow fell, the trees stood, the promise kept, And a child I slept.

When I was starting to write, the great influence was T.S. Eliot and after that William Butler Yeats.

I have a plot, but not much happens.

I sometimes talk about the making of a poem within the poem.

Robert Frost had always said you mustn't think of the last line first, or it's only a fake poem, not a real one. I'm inclined to agree.

I never abandoned either forms or freedom. I imagine that most of what could be called free verse is in my first book. I got through that fairly early.

I've never read a political poem that's accomplished anything. Poetry makes things happen, but rarely what the poet wants.