Poetry is an attempt to say the unsayable, to capture what ultimately eludes.

Would you take your daughter there, the unholiest there you guess you could go?

Well, I am shy of miracles and shy of the talk of miracles.

After the word is forgotten and discovered, and streamed until it’s nothing, she is not here.

I’m caught in my longing to be with you somewhere else.

a prodigal daughter returned at last