The Story Of Each Stone Leads Back

Laughter Was The Shape The Darkness Took Around The First Appearance Of The Light.

Every Year Without Knowing It I Have Passed The Day When The Last Fires Will Wave To Me

Certain Words Now In Our Knowledge We Will Not Use Again, And We Will Never Forget Them. We Need Them. Like The Back Of The Picture.

We Travel Far And Fast And As We Pass Through We Forget Where We Have Been

My Words Are The Garment Of What I Shall Never Be Like The Tucked Sleeve Of A One-armed Boy.