From Rilke’s Ninth Elegy –
But because truly being here is so much; because
everything here
apparently needs us, this fleeting world, which in
some strange way
keeps calling to us. Us, the most fleeting of all,.
Once for each thing. Just once; no more. And we too,
Just once. And never again…
Always be a poet. Even in prose.
— Charles Baudelaire.
In essence I am a storyteller who writes poems. Put simply, I write the poems I want to read.[…]
A sequence of my poems has been published in a hardcover book entitled The Music of Leaving Poems by Tricia McCallum
More info…
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