In The Book The Relationship With Katharine

Water Is The Exile, Carried Back In Cans And Flasks, The Ghost Between Your Hands And Your Mouth.

This Was The Time In Her Life That She Fell Upon Books As The Only Door Out Of Her Cell. They Became Half Her World.

Half A Page--and The Morning Is Already Ancient.

He Will Hear The Rain Before He Feels It, A Clicking On The Dry Grass, On The Olive Leaves.

People Don't Write About Kids; You Have To Give Them A Lot Of Freedom, And That Causes Anarchy And That Causes Farce.