If it's a drop of dew, it will dissolve.

Shakespeare, of course, makes us ever aware of transience, not only in the sonnets, but also powerfully in his plays - spectacles for a brief period of time and then gone, as when Prospero describes the pageant fading, leaving "not a rack behind."

I can't move my body slowly. I can't move the line slowly. So I end up with way too much, often opaque to me later.

I prefer always to think that I am creating a book, not a series of stand-alone poems.

The days start to be charged not because tomorrow you're leaving, but because in three weeks you're leaving. The future impinges. So you start to think about the frame.

Looking out a window from different vantage points changes what you see and therefore what you write.

Language is as fragile as the little alpine plant.