The Whole Shadow Of Man Is Only

Time To Plant Tears, Says The Almanac. The Grandmother Sings To The Marvelous Stove And The Child Draws Another Inscrutable House.

Someone Loves Us All.

What The Man-moth Fears Most He Must Do.

If After I Read A Poem The World Looks Like That Poem For 24 Hours Or So I'm Sure It's A Good One—and The Same Goes For Paintings.

The Art Of Losing Isn't Hard To Master; So Many Things Seem Filled With The Intent To Be Lost That Their Loss Is No Disaster.