Go play with the towns you have built of blocks, The towns where you would have bound me! I sleep in my earth like a tired fox, And my bufdfalo have found me.

We thought, because we had power, we had wisdom.

As for what you're calling hard luck - well, we made New England out of it. That and codfish.

When Daniel Boone goes by at night The phantom deer arise And all lost, wild America Is burning in their eyes.

I am tired of loving a foreign muse.

I do think that the kind of writing that I do will always be around and printed in books, magazines, and now blogs.

The other week I wrote a piece on a photograph I got at a flea market, and I got about 70 hits. I think a lot of people must be interested in flea markets.