I Write To Find Out

He Thought That I Was After Him For A Feather--- The White One In His Tail: Like One Who Takes Everything Said As Personal To Himself.

We Love The Things We Love For What They Are.

We're Either Nothing Or A God's Regret.

I Hate The Idea That You Ought To Read The Whole Of Anybody.

A Poem Begins With A Lump In The Throat; A Homesickness Or A Love Sickness. It Is A Reaching-out Toward Expression; An Effort To Find Fulfillment. A Complete Poem Is One Where An Emotion Has Found Its Thought And The Thought Has Found Words.