It's Morning, And Again I Am That

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

Today I Am Altogether Without Ambition. Where Did I Get Such Wisdom?

Poetry Isn't A Profession, It's A Way Of Life. It's An Empty Basket; You Put Your Life Into It And Make Something Out Of That.

Wherever I Am, The World Comes After Me. It Offers Me Its Busyness. It Does Not Believe That I Do Not Want It. Now I Understand Why The Old Poets Of China Went So Far And High Into The Mountains, Then Crept Into The Pale Mist.

I Know Many Lives Worth Living.