Fee-fi-fo-fum - Now I'm Borrowed. Now I'm

You Must Be A Poet, A Lady Of Evil Luck Desiring To Be What You Are Not, Longing To Be What You Can Only Visit.

Rejoice With The Day Lily For It Is Born For A Day To Live By The Mailbox And Glorify The Roadside

The Snow Has Quietness In It; No Songs, No Smells, No Shouts Or Traffic. When I Speak My Own Voice Shocks Me.

Poetry Is My Life, My Postmark, My Hands, My Kitchen, My Face.

The Marriage Twists, Holds Firm, A Sailor's Knot.