My Cradle Was A Shoe.

I Have With Me All That I Do Not Knowi Have Lost None Of It.

My Words Are The Garment Of What I Shall Never Be Like The Tucked Sleeve Of A One-armed Boy.

Sitting Over Words Very Late I Have Heard A Kind Of Whispered Sighing Not Far Like A Night Wind In Pines Or Like The Sea In The Dark The Echo Of Everything That Has Ever Been Spoken Still Spinning Its One Syllable Between The Earth And Silence.

Through All Of Youth I Was Looking For You Without Knowing What I Was Looking For Part Memory Part Distance Remaining Mine In The Ways That I Learn To Miss You From What We Cannot Hold The Stars Are Made.

I'm Very Pessimistic About The Future Of The Human Species. We Have Been So Indifferent To Life On The Whole That It Will Take Its Toll. It's Not Just The Polar Bears That Are Having A Hard Time; What We're Doing Is Gradually Impoverishing And Poisoning The Whole Of The Rest Of Life.