In Winter The Very Ground

I'm Just Like This. I Have No Talent For Choosing My Battles. Life Seems, Strangely, Like A Battle To Me. The Whole Thing.

I Had To Learn Compassion. Had To Learn What It Felt Like To Hate, And To Forgive And To Love And Be Loved. And To Lose People Close To Me. Had To Feel Deep Loneliness And Sorrow. And Then I Could Write.

Or - Perhaps - I Should Just Worry About My Own Behavior And Let Others Be Who They Are.

The Night Is A Strawberry.

In Winter The Very Ground Seemed To Reach Up And Grab The Elderly, Yanking Them To Earth As Though Hungry For Them.