“Though the body is itsgenesis, a poem is the vision of a processOut of ceaseless motion in edgeless spaceCarved in space, vision your poor eye's singlearmor against winter spring summer fall”
“- Growth has its season. There are spring and summer, but there are also fall and winter. And then spring and summer again. As long as the roots are not severed, all is well and all be well.”
“You’re my change of skin / my summer-winter-fall / I spring to follow you / this loss is beautiful.”
“Forge your vision in cold weather, hide within your work until it is spring.”
“There are four seasons in a year: Winter, Spring, Summer and Colour!”
“Pressed against her I can hear eternity -- hollow, lonely spaces and currents that churn ceaselessly, and the fallen snow welcomes the falling snow with a whispered "Hush".”