You, Too, Can Be Carved Anew By

And Who Will Care, Who Will Chide You If You Wander Away From Wherever You Are, To Look For Your Soul?

But How Did You Come Burning Down Like A Wild Needle, Knowing Just Where My Heart Was?

Far Off In The Red Mangroves An Alligator Has Heaved Himself Onto A Hummock Of Grass And Lies There, Studying His Poems.

Poetry Is One Of The Original Arts, And It Began, As Did All The Fine Arts, Within The Original Wilderness Of The Earth.

A Poet's Interest In Craft Never Fades, Of Course.