Leisure unmasks our weaknesses.
In the great cities, winter glitters with art and feasting. But poetry, the country cousin, sees only the dearth of the fields.
My taking a seat on the Council of the Fathers caused a desperate fluttering among my ghosts.
Joy goes as deep as sorrow, but leaves less of itself behind.
Shameless: Punish me for my desire if you will. It burns still.
Tears are great peace-makers.