How Shall The Heart Be Reconciled /

Darling, Do You Remember The Man You Married? Touch Me, Remind Me Who I Am.

When They Shall Paint Our Sockets Gray And Light Us Like A Stinking Fuse, Remember That We Once Could Say, Yesterday We Had A World To Lose.

Memory Is Each Man's Poet-in-residence.

I Associate The Garden With The Whole Experience Of Being Alive, And So, There Is Nothing In The Range Of Human Experience That Is Separate From What The Garden Can Signify In Its Eagerness And Its Insistence, And In Its Driving Energy To Live -- To Grow, To Bear Fruit.

You Must Be Careful Not To Deprive The Poem Of Its Wild Origin.