There Is An Eagle In Me That

Under The Harvest Moon, When The Soft Silver Drips Shimmering Over The Garden Nights, Death, The Gray Mocker, Comes And Whispers To You As A Beautiful Friend Who Remembers.

The Sea Is Always The Same: And Yet The Sea Always Changes.

I'll Die Propped Up In Bed Trying To Do A Poem About America.

The Simple Dignity Of A Child Drinking A Bowl Of Milk Embodies The Fascination Of An Ancient Rite.

Tell Me If The Lovers Are Losers... Tell Me If Any Get More Than The Lovers.