May My Silences Become More Accurate.

I Can Hear, Underground, That Sucking And Sobbing, In My Veins, In My Bones I Feel It,- The Small Water Seeping Upward, The Tight Grains Parting At Last. When Sprouts Break Out, Slippery As Fish, I Quail, Lean To Beginnings, Sheath-wet.

Let Others Probe The Mystery If They Can.time-harried Prisoners Of Shall And Will -the Right Thing Happens To The Happy Man.

I Learn By Going Where I Have To Go.

I Came Where The River Ran Over Stones; My Ears Knew An Early Joy. And All The Waters Of All The Streams Sang In My Veins That Summer Day.

I Have Gone Into The Waste Lonely Places