The Simple Dignity Of A

Nothing Happens... But First A Dream.

Where Was I Going? I Puzzled And Wondered About It Til I Actually Enjoyed The Puzzlement And Wondering.

Tell No Man Anything, For No Man Listens Yet Hold Thy Lips Ready To Speak.

Poetry Is The Report Of A Nuance Between Two Moments, When People Say, 'listen!' And 'did You See It?' 'did You Hear It? What Was It?'

I Take You And Pile High The Memories. Death Will Break Her Claws On Some I Keep.