Gardening is the instrument of grace.
I tell the gods are still alive / And they are not consoling.
It is clear that we do not exactly choose our poems; our poems choose us.
There is a proper balance between not asking enough of oneself and asking or expecting too much.
over and over again I am struck by the wordiness of modern poetry, as if language had replaced experience and must be more and more extreme, intricate and in a way divorced from life itself. It seems as if what we all need is a great purification - but how will that come about?
Women are at last becoming persons first and wives second, and that is as it should be.