Poetry and Prose

"Everything was screaming: the sea, the wind, my heart."

When you left, I went to the ocean, believing it was the only thing vast enough to hold my grief. But it overflowed with my tears, and I was left standing on the shore, carrying everything I had hoped to drown.

"We can't possibly have a summer love. So many people have tried that the name's become proverbial. Summer is only the unfulfilled promise of spring, a charlatan in place of the warm balmy nights I dream of in April. It's a sad season of life without growth...It has no day."

"If June was the beginning of a hopeful summer, and July the juicy middle, August was suddenly feeling like the bitter end."

"If I had my way, I'd remove January from the calendar altogether and have an extra July instead."

"And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer."

"The summer looks out from her brazen tower, through the flashing bars of July."

"Blue July, bright July, Month of storms and gorgeous blue; Violet lightnings o'er thy sky,Heavy falls of drenching dew;Summer crown! o'er glen and glade."

If I leave nothing else behind, I have plenty of poems that can be echoed once I'm gone.

"I know love doesn't have an easy cost. I loved you, and look at the land I walk—colored with lifeless blood."