How fragile we are, between the few good moments.

Poetry's work is the clarification and magnification of being.

Within the silence, expansion, and sustained day by day concentration, I grow permeable.

The nourishment of Cezanne's awkward apples is in the tenderness and alertness they awaken inside us.

I think, though, that perspective-awareness may follow from a kind of speaking that also came into my work more recently - the "assay" poems (some labeled that, some not) that engage an abstraction or object from multiple angles.

Existence itself is nothing if not an amazement. Good poems restore amazement.

Gestation requires protected space; ripening requires both permeability to the outer — and non-disturbance.