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There's one of my new poems actually - is a good example of where my poetry has ended up. My earlier river poetry was more like a cross between Shelley and Dylan Thomas.

Trying to sneak a fastball past Hank Aaron is like trying to sneak the sunrise past a rooster.

Mirth is like a flash of lightning, that breaks through a gloom of clouds, and glitters for a moment; cheerfulness keeps up a kind of daylight in the mind, and fills it with a steady and perpetual serenity.

If we hope for what we are not likely to possess, we act and think in vain, and make life a greater dream and shadow than it really is.

Sometimes, you feel like you've sold your soul. But if I win the lottery, I'm going to buy it back.