Maturing As A Poet Means Maturing As

This Is The Way The World Ends, Not With A Bang, But A Whimper.

And Would It Have Been Worth It, After All, Would It Have Been Worth While, After The Sunsets And The Dooryards And The Sprinkled Streets, After The Novels, After The Teacups, After The Skirts That Trail Along The Floor - And This, And So Much More? -

They Don't Understand What It Is To Be Awake, / To Be Living On Several Planes At Once / Though One Cannot Speak With Several Voices At Once.

Between The Vision And The Act Lies The Shadow.

Teach Us To Care And Not To Care Teach Us To Sit Still. Pray For Us Sinners Now And At The Hour Of Our Death Pray For Us Now And At The Hour Of Our Death.