Only People Unhappy In The

The Girl In The Mirror Caught My Eye Briefly...it Is An Uncanny Feeling, That Rare Occasion When One Catches A Glimpse Of Oneself In Repose. An Unguarded Moment, Stripped Of Artifice, When One Forgets To Fool Even Oneself.

Wars Make History Seem Deceptively Simple. They Provide Clear Turning Points, Easy Distinctions.: Before And After, Winner And Loser, Right And Wrong. True History, The Past, Is Not Like That. It Isn't Flat Or Linear. It Has No Outline. It Is Slippery, Like Liquid; Infinite And Unknowable, Like Space. And It Is Changeable: Just When You Think You See A Pattern, Perspective Shifts, An Alternate Version Is Proffered, A Long-forgotten Memory Resurfaces.

I've Heard It Said That Children Born To Stressful Times Never Shake The Air Of Woe . . . .

Had Any Poet Adequately Described The Wretched Ugliness Of A Loved One Turned Inside Out With Grief?

The Happiest Folk Are Those That Are Busy, For Their Minds Are Starved Of Time To Seek Out Woe.