The Soul Exceeds Its Circumstances.

I Have Defined Poetry As A 'passionate Pursuit Of The Real.

A Day So Happy. Fog Lifted Early. I Worked In The Garden. Hummingbirds Were Stopping Over Honeysuckle Flowers. There Was No Thing On Earth I Wanted To Possess. I Know No One Worth My Envying Him.

What Is Poetry Which Does Not Save Nations Or People?

Poetry Is News Brought To The Mountains By A Unicorn And An Echo.

All Was Taken Away From You: White Dresses, Wings, Even Existence.