In the places that call me out, I know I'll recover my wordless childhood trust in the largeness of life and its willingness to take me in.

A first child is your own best foot forward, and how you do cheer those little feet as they strike out. You examine every turn of flesh for precocity, and crow it to the world. But the last one: the baby who trails her scent like a flag of surrender through your life when there will be no more coming after--oh, that' s love by a different name.

Every betrayal contains a perfect moment, a coin stamped heads or tails with salvation on the other side.

It kills you to see them grow up. But I guess it would kill you quicker if they didn't.

There's always more to a story than a body can see from the fenceline.

People ask without wanting to know.

I attempted briefly to consecrate myself in the public library, believing every crack in my soul could be chinked with a book.