I Write To Find Out What I

For Me The Initial Delight Is In The Surprise Of Remembering Something I Didn't Know I Knew. I Have Never Started A Poem Yet Whose End I Knew.

The Land Was Ours Before We Were The Land's. She Was Our Land More Than A Hundred Years Before We Were Her People.

Oh, Give Us Pleasure In The Flowers To-day; And Give Us Not To Think So Far Away As The Uncertain Harvest; Keep Us Here All Simply In The Springing Of The Year. Oh, Give Us Pleasure In The Orchard White, Like Nothing Else By Day, Like Ghosts By Night; And Make Us Happy In The Happy Bees, The Swarm Dilating Round The Perfect Trees.

If There Is One Thing In Life That I Have Learned About Life It Is... It Goes On.

Skepticism, Is That Anything More Than We Used To Mean When We Said, Well, What Have We Here?