I hope to leave behind a few poems it will be hard to get rid of.
I am not a teacher. I am an awakener.
We dance round in a ring and suppose, but the secret sits in the middle and knows.
Unless I'm wrong I but obey The urge of a song: I'm-bound-away! And I may return If dissatisfied With what I learn From having died.
Americans are like a rich father who wishes he knew how to give his son the hardships that made him rich.
Come grow old with me, for the best is yet to come!