We Are Each Other's Harvest; We Are

What Shall I Give My Children? Who Are Poor, / Who Are Adjudged The Leastwise Of The Land...

Life For My Child Is Simple, And Is Good.

Words Can Do Wonderful Things. They Pound, Purr. They Can Urge, They Can Wheedle, Whip, Whine. They Can Sing, Sass, Singe. They Can Churn, Check, Channelize. They Can Be A "hup Two Three Four." They Can Forge A Fiery Army Of A Hundred Languid Men.

We Are Each Other's Harvest; We Are Each Other's Business; We Are Each Other's Magnitude And Bond.

Writing Is A Delicious Agony.