How We Dwelt In Two Worlds The

I Think Many Poets, Including Myself, Write Both For The Voice And For The Page. I Certainly Write For The Person Alone In The Library, Who Pulls Down A Book And It Opens To A Poem. I Am Also Very Conscious Of What It Means To Read These Poems Aloud.

A Life I Didn't Choose Chose Me: Even My Tools Are The Wrong Ones For What I Have To Do.

I Touch You Knowing We Weren't Born Tomorrow, And Somehow, Each Of Us Will Help The Other Live, And Somewhere, Each Of Us Must Help The Other Die.

Change Is Not A Threat To Your Life, But An Invitation To Live.

Art, Whose Honesty Must Work Through Artifice, Cannot Avoid Cheating Truth.