Poetry A Riprap On The Slick Rock

All This New Stuff Goes On Top Turn It Over, Turn It Over Wait And Water Down From The Dark Bottom Turn It Inside Out Let It Spread Through Sift Down Even. Watch It Sprout. A Mind Like Compost.

After Weeks Of Watching The Roof Leak I Fixed It Tonight By Moving A Single Board

I Try To Hold Both History And Wilderness In Mind, That My Poems May The True Measure Of Things And Stand Against The Unbalance And Ignorance Of Our Times.

I Thought, That Day I Started, I Sure Would Hate To Do This All My Life, And Dammit, That’s Just What I’ve Gone And Done.

But If You Do Know What Is Taught By Plants And Weather, You Are In On The Gossip And Can Feel Truly At Home. The Sum Of A Field's Forces [become] What We Call Very Loosely The 'spirit Of The Place.' To Know The Spirit Of A Place Is To Realize That You Are A Part Of A Part And That The Whole Is Made Or Parts, Each Of Which In A Whole. You Start With The Part You Are Whole In.