The Music Is In Minors.

A Poem Doesn't Do Everything For You. You Are Supposed To Go On With Your Thinking. You Are Supposed To Enrich The Other Person's Poem With Your Extensions, Your Uniquely Personal Understandings, Thus Making The Poem Serve You.

And If Sun Comes / How Shall We Greet Him? / Shall We Not Dread Him, / Shall We Not Fear Him / After So Lengthy A / Session With Shade?

As You Get Older, You Find That Often The Wheat, Disentangling Itself From The Chaff, Comes Out To Meet You.

I've Always Thought Of Myself As A Reporter.

What Shall I Give My Children? Who Are Poor, / Who Are Adjudged The Leastwise Of The Land...