I'm always wondering if he'll return. Sometimes I pray that he doesn't. And sometimes I hope he will. I wish on falling stars and eyelashes. Absence isn't solid the way death is. It's fluid, like language. And it hurts so much...so, so much.

You're a part of me...You're in my heart. Forever and always, all right? —D

I've learned about marrying poetry and prose and making both accessible.

I've learned a lot as a writer about poetry.

To watch your home change in front of you is surprising. But at the same time, going someplace like Mississippi, makes me appreciate even this.

I think writers are the history keepers, right? We're the ones who are bearing witness to what's going on in the world. And I feel like it's our job to put that down on paper, and put it out into the world, so that it can be remembered.

Time comes to us softly, slowly. It sits beside us for a while. Then, long before we are ready, it moves on.