We Who Were Loved Will Never Unlive

And I Ask Myself And You, Which Of Our Visions Will Claim Us Which Will We Claim How Will We Go On Living How Will We Touch, What Will We Know What Will We Say To Each Other.

Every Journey Into The Past Is Complicated By Delusions, False Memories, False Namings Of Real Events.

If We Had Time And No Money, Living By Our Wits, What Story Would You Tell?

Most Women Have Not Even Been Able To Touch This Anger, Except To Drive It Inward Like A Rusted Nail.

Over Many Years So Many Poets Have Touched My Imagination And Opened Paths For Me - It Hardly Makes Sense To List Them. I Have Always Read A Great Deal Of Poetry.