Yesterday And Tomorrow Cross And Mix On

I Remember In My Early 20s When I Felt I Couldn't Live Past 30. I Was Learning How To Write. I Had A Lot Of Hard Work Ahead Of Me.

There Are Men And Women So Lonely They Believe God, Too, Is Lonely.

It Is The Business Of Little Minds To Shrink.

Poetry Is A Section Of River-fog And Moving Boat-lights, Delivered Between Bridges And Whistles, So One Says, 'oh!' And Another, 'how?'

Yesterday And Tomorrow Cross And Mix On The Skyline. The Two Are Lost In A Purple Haze. One Forgets, One Waits.