I Think That In Poetry Personal Experience

For Me, Poetry Is An Evasion Of The Real Job Of Writing Prose.

Then I Decided I Would Spend The Summer Writing A Novel. That Would Fix A Lot Of People.

I Shut My Eyes And All The World Drops Dead; I Lift My Eyes And All Is Born Again.

If I Have A Dry Spell ... I Wait And Live Harder, Eyes, Ears, And Heart Open, And When The Productive Time Comes, It Is That Much Richer.

I May Never Be Happy, But Tonight I Am Content. Nothing More Than An Empty House, The Warm Hazy Weariness From A Day Spent Setting Strawberry Runners In The Sun, A Glass Of Cool Sweet Milk, And A Shallow Dish Of Blueberries Bathed In Cream. When One Is So Tired At The End Of A Day One Must Sleep, And At The Next Dawn There Are More Strawberry Runners To Set, And So One Goes On Living, Near The Earth. At Times Like This I'd Call Myself A Fool To Ask For More.