Ira Rubin started writing poetry at the age of twelve. The catalyst for his writing poetry was an English translation of Turkish poetry. He was fascinated by how changing the meaning of a word in a sentence changed the meaning of the entire sentence. Thus he began writing poetry. The first poem he wrote was titled "A Little White Cloud." The first line was "The Sky on its clothesline doth hold the stars, the moon, the sun" and the last line was "And burst into a little white cloud." What was in between those lines is lost forever, as is lost almost all of the more than twelve thousand poems he has written in his lifetime. He has started to write poetry again. If you like the poems in between these two covers, you would be curious to see what his poems-to-be would be like. He is curious too. Affectionately, Ira.