...the Moon That Hung Over

The Wheel Turns And Turns And Turns: It Never Stops And Stands Still.

Isn't It Strange How Life Won't Flow, Like A River, But Moves In Jumps, As If It Were Held Back By Locks That Are Opened Now And Then To Let It Jump Forwards In A Kind Of Flood?

What A Sense Of Possession, Of Confidence, It Gave One To Have Pockets, To Shove One's Fists Into Them, As If In Simply Owning Pockets One Owned Riches, Owned Independence.

When I Was Very Young, I Used To Share Much Of What I Wrote With My Family, But As I Got Older And More Self-conscious, It Became A Much More Private Process.

I Aim To Tell The Truth About Any Subject, Not A Romance Or Fantasy, Not Avoid The Truth.