I Wish That Every Baby

I Am Drawn To The Ways In Which We Are Shaped By People And By Place.

I Was Wishing I Was Invisible. Outside, The Leaves Were Falling To The Ground, And I Was Infinitely Sad, Sad Down To My Bones. I Was Sad For Phoebe And Her Parents And Prudence And Mike, Sad For The Leaves That Were Dying, And Sad For Myself, For Something I Had Lost.

A Person Isn't A Bird. You Can't Cage A Person.

I Tried. Can't Do It. Brain's Empty.

Don’t Be In Too Much Of A Rush To Be Published. There Is Enormous Value In Listening And Reading And Writing—and Then Putting Your Words Away For Weeks Or Months–and Then Returning To Your Work To Polish It Some More.