What Can I Have That I Still

Deep Down There Was Understanding, Not Of The Facts Of Our Lives So Much As Of Our Essential Natures.

For Art Is Order, But It Is Born Out Of The Chaos Of Life.

Am I Too Old, Perhaps, Ever To Take In Another's Life To Share With Mine On A Permanent Basis? If So, I Must Make Do With What I Have... And What I Have Is A Great Richness Of Friends And A Positively Ardent Love Of Nature. Not Nothing!

Try Making A Poem As If It Were A Table, Clear And Solid, Standing There Outside You.

Poetry Finds Its Perilous Equilibrium Somewhere Between Music And Speech.