How often already you've had to be told, Keep cold, young orchard. Good-bye and keep cold. Dread fifty above more than fifty below. I have to be gone for a season or so.

Now no joy but lacks salt, That is not dashed with pain And weariness and fault; I crave the stain Of tears, the aftermark Of almost too much love, The sweet o…

It is absurd to think that the only way to tell if a poem is lasting is to wait and see if it lasts. The right reader of a good poem can tell the moment it str…

Love at the lips was touch As sweet as I could bear; And once that seemed too much; I lived on air

In your teens and your 20s, you're immortal, you're untouchable. It's only later that you begin to realize you are mortal. (2004)

Our hopes, like towering falcons, aim At objects in an airy height; The little pleasure of the game Is from afar to view the flight.

Life is a voyage. The winds of life come strong From every point; yet each will speed thy course along, If thou with steady hand when tempests blow Canst keep …