Human Life Is Too Difficult For People.

Contrary To Slanderous Eastern Opinion, Much Of Iowa Is Not Flat, But Rolling Hills Country With A Lot Of Timber, A Handsome And Imaginative Landscape, Crowded With Constant Small Changes Of Scene And Full Of Little Creeks Winding With Pools Where Shiners, Crappies And Catfish Hover.

Other Families Bought Automobiles; We Had A Horse-headed Hitching Post In Front Of Our House And Drove Horses.

The Sharpest Memory Of Our Old-fashioned Christmas Eve Is My Mother's Hand Making Sure I Was Settled In Bed.

Writing Is Like This -- You Dredge For The Poem's Meaning The Way Police Dredge For A Body. They Think It Is Down There Under The Black Water, They Work The Grappling Hooks Back And Forth.

Poetry Is Ordinary Language Raised To The Nth Power. Poetry Is Boned With Ideas, Nerved And Blooded With Emotions, All Held Together By The Delicate, Tough Skin Of Words.