I Just Think It's A Great World

I Turn And I Look Back Across The Lake. The Mist Is Gone And The Ice Diminished, The Drip Of The Icicles Quick And Heavy. The Sun Is Up And The Sky Is Blue Empty Blue Light Blue Clear Blue. I Would Drink The Sky If I Could Drink It, Drink It And Celebrate It And Let It Fill Me And Become Me. I Am Getting Better. Empty And Clear And Light And Blue. I Am Getting Better.

Part Of Me Still Loves. More Of Me Doesn't.

We Stare Into Each Other's Eyes And Softly Kiss Speaking And Saying More With The Movement Of Our Lips And The Tips Of Our Fingers Than Words Will Allow Us To Say. Words Can't Say This. The One Word Love Means Too Little For What It Is. It Means Everything And That Is Still Not Enough. It Doesn't Communicate Even A Fraction Of The Feelings Involved. Love. The Word Is Not Enough For What It Is. Love. Love.

I'm Writing Books. They're Still A Mix Of Fact And Fiction And Will Continue To Be. I Think It's An Interesting Place To Work.

I Stand, Walk Over To Him, Sit Down On His Bed, Put My Arms Around Him, Hug Him. He Hugs Me Back Strong And I Can Feel The Shame Coming Through His Arms. I Am A Criminal And He Is A Judge And I Am White And He Is Black, But At This Moment None Of That Matters. He Is A Man Who Needs A Friends And I Can Be His Friend.