Maybe when your mother died young, you became instantly old.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.

I have always loved the gaps, the spaces between things, as much as the things. I love staring, pondering, mulling, puttering. I love the times when someone or something is late-there's that rich possibility of noticing more, in the meantimePoetry calls us to pause. There is so much we overlook, while the abundance around us continues to shimmer, on its own.

why are we so monumentally slow?

I want to be famous in the way a pulley is famous, or a buttonhole, not because it did anything spectacular, but because it never forgot what it could do.

I'm writing mostly to thank you for living you eighty years and to tell you I love you and think of you often.

I think the job of writing and literature is to encourage each one of us to believe that we're living in a story.