Grandfather Space. The Mind Is His Wife

Knowing Where And Who Are Intimately Linked.

Wildness It Is Perennially Within Us, Dormant As A Hard-shelled Seed, Awaiting The Fire Or Flood That Awakes It Again.

I Never Find Words Right Away. Poems For Me Always Begin With Images And Rhythms, Shapes, Feelings, Forms, Dances In The Back Of My Mind.

A Reading Is A Kind Of Communion. The Poet Articulates The Semi-known For The Tribe.

Forests In The Tropics Are Cut To Make Pasture To Raise Beef For The American Market. Our Distance From The Source Of Our Food Enables Us To Be Superficially More Comfortable, And Distinctly More Ignorant.