About Me, Nothing Worse They Will Tell

We Must Dream Our Way.

Peace Goes Into The Making Of A Poem As Flour Goes Into The Making Of Bread.

Our Love Was Born Outside The Walls, In The Wind, In The Night, In The Earth, And That's Why The Clay And The Flower, The Mud And The Roots Know Your Name.

It Was My Destiny To Love And Say Goodbye.

Poetry Arrived In Search Of Me. I Don't Know, I Don't Know Where It Came From, From Winter Or A River. I Don't Know How Or When.