We Have To Learn How

Be What You Are. Give What Is Yours To Give. Have Style. Dare.

Rhythm To Me Is Essentially What Hopkins Called The Taste Of Self. I Taste Myself As Rhythm.

Darling, Do You Remember The Man You Married? Touch Me, Remind Me Who I Am.

Certainly The Modern Poets I Cherish Most Are Disturbing Spirits; They Do Not Come To Coo.

I Dropped My Hoe And Ran Into The House And Started To Write This Poem, 'end Of Summer.’ It Began As A Celebration Of Wild Geese. Eventually The Geese Flew Out Of The Poem, But I Like To Think They Left Behind The Sound Of Their Beating Wings.