The Day Of Fire Is Coming, The

Cinderella And The Prince Lived, They Say, Happily Ever After, Like Two Dolls In A Museum Case Never Bothered By Diapers Or Dust, Never Arguing Over The Timing Of An Egg, Never Telling The Same Story Twice.

Blind With Love, My Daughter Has Cried Nightly For Horses, Those Long-necked Marchers And Churners That She Has Mastered, Any And All, Reigning Them In Like A Circus Hand.

I Am Younger Each Year At The First Snow.

Now, In My Middle Age, About Nineteen In The Head I'd Say, I Am Rowing, I Am Rowing.

Rocks Crumble, Make New Forms, Oceans Move The Continents, Mountains Rise Up And Down Like Ghosts Yet All Is Natural, All Is Change.