Nearly everybody is looking for something brave to do. I don't know why people shouldn't write poetry. That's brave.

The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued.

I hope to leave behind a few poems it will be hard to get rid of.

Yes, and even for the past...that it will turn out to have been all right for what it was. Something I can accept. Mistakes made by the self I had to be or was not able to be.

Poetry is what is lost in translation. It is also what is lost in interpretation.

Freud was way off base in considering sex the fundamental motivation. The ruling passion in men is minding each other's business.

Forgive me my nonsense, as I also forgive the nonsense of those that think they talk sense.