He Was Like A Song I'd Heard

For A Flicker Of A Moment I Imagined A World Completely Different From The One I'd Always Known, A World In Which I Was Treated With Fairness, Even Kindness-- A World In Which Fathers Didn't Sell Their Daughters.

At The Temple There Is A Poem Called "loss" Carved Into The Stone. It Has Three Words, But The Poet Has Scratched Them Out. You Cannot Read Loss, Only Feel It.

I Don't Think Any Of Us Can Speak Frankly About Pain Until We Are No Longer Enduring It.

Nothing Is As Bleak As The Future, Except The Past.

Perhaps It Seems Odd That A Casual Meeting On The Street Could Have Brought About Such Change. But Sometimes Life Is Like That Isn't It