The Art Of Losing Isn't Hard To

Being A Poet Is One Of The Unhealthier Jobs--no Regular Hours, So Many Temptations!

Time To Plant Tears, Says The Almanac. The Grandmother Sings To The Marvelous Stove And The Child Draws Another Inscrutable House.

What The Man-moth Fears Most He Must Do.

What Childishness Is It That While There's Breath Of Life In Our Bodies, We Are Determined To Rush To See The Sun The Other Way Around?

Think Of The Long Trip Home. Should We Have Stayed Home And Thought Of Here? Where Should We Be Today?