When I Was Walking In The Mountains

I Believe That Icarus Was Not Failing As He Fell, But Just Coming To The End Of His Triumph.

We Think The Fire Eats The Wood. We Are Wrong. The Wood Reaches Out To The Flame. The Fire Licks At What The Wood Harbors, And The Wood Gives Itself Away To That Intimacy, The Manner In Which We And The World Meet Each New Day.

I Had Lived All Of My Youthful Dreams, But I Couldn't Think Of Many Adult Ones. I Finally Realized That We Don't Have Many Dreams For Adults Because, Historically, People Have Always Died Much Younger Than They Do Today.

I Would Say Pittsburgh Softly Each Time Before Throwing Him Up. Whisper Pittsburgh With My Mouth Against The Tiny Ear And Throw Him Higher. Pittsburgh And Happiness High Up. The Only Way To Leave Even The Smallest Trace. So That All His Life Her Son Would Feel Gladness Unaccountably When Anyone Spoke Of The Ruined City Of Steel In America. Each Time Almost Remembering Something Maybe Important That Got Lost.

What We Feel Most Has No Name But Amber, Archers, Cinnamon, Horses And Birds.