On Me Your Voice Falls As They

Sex Means Nothing--just The Moment Of Ecstasy, That Flares And Dies In Minutes.

Here Silence Stands Like Heat. Here Leaves Unnoticed Thicken, Hidden Weeds Flower, Neglected Waters Quicken, Luminously-peopled Air Ascends; And Past The Poppies Bluish Neutral Distance Ends The Land Suddenly Beyond A Beach Of Shapes And Shingle. Here Is Unfenced Existence: Facing The Sun, Untalkative, Out Of Reach.

Deprivation Is For Me What Daffodils Were For Wordsworth.

The Breath That Sharpens Life Is Life Itself.

I Am Always Trying To 'preserve' Things By Getting Other People To Read What I Have Written, And Feel What I Felt.