Any Given Moment - No Matter How

I Wanted A Line In A Poem To Be The Hollow Ney Of The Dervish Orchestra Whose Plaintive Wail Is A Call To God. But All I Achieved Was Awkward Shrieking. Not Even The Pure Shriek Of A Reed In The Rain.

The Dead Leave Us Starving With Mouths Full Of Love.” From “memoriam

Even As A Child, Even As My Blood-past Was Drained From Me, I Understood That If I Were Strong Enough To Accept It, I Was Being Offered A Second History.

To Share A Hiding Place, Physical Or Psychological, Is As Intimate As Love.

History And Memory Share Events; That Is, They Share Time And Space. Every Moment Is Two Moments.