There Is An Eagle In Me That

Poetry Is A Sky Dark With A Wild-duck Migration.

The Fog Comes On Little Cat Feet.

I Learned You Can't Trust The Judgment Of Good Friends.

It Is The Business Of Little Minds To Shrink.

Gather The Stars If You Wish It So Gather The Songs And Keep Them. Gather The Faces Of Women. Gather For Keeping Years And Years. And Then... Loosen Your Hands, Let Go And Say Good-bye. Let The Stars And Songs Go. Let The Faces And Years Go. Loosen Your Hands And Say Good-bye.