This poet sits in lonely room
observing life as from a womb...

An egret lifted from its ditch, flew in front of...
Avoided death on my car grill by seconds...

Already dead tree
provides a safe nesting site...

The first president I remember was Eisenhower
The first president I mourned was Kennedy...

When you’re on the bus
she lays her head on your chest...

Scared
looking...

Not the wisest man
nor the richest can create...

Your lips taught me the first knowledge...

Laid up in bed on this sunny day
remembering the spirit of play...

He trapped her in silence;
He trapped her inside...

Where have they come from
these scars cross hatching my hands...

Men do not hunt
For the Queen of Summer...