"letting the wind do the lifting. she's "mad" but not care- less. to be voyaged. sand people. noise. the drizzling the sun forced on her gladly. let- ting someone know how hot not by a look but by a finger. little boy talking in to the beach trash can and his grandmother shouting everything to christo. walking out in the water the waves were slow. they did what waves did, they rode. all day to find the night and much later to dream it. safety has its breath on me. i was up before i could speak. kept distance until crossing it reaches you. "

- from Cherries in the Afternoon, Susan Roberts
to be voyaged?
**

"We were walking through a largely magic garden. I saw him not as a rich man nor as my husband's employer but as someone who through being there made me notice all the flowers, one by one. First I saw a big rose, such as appear in cut glass in houses, or in old pickle jars, or in vases large enough for only one stem. Then another kind of rose, smaller, wilder. Then lilies. Of course I knew that none of this was "natural." It was a cultivated garden. Still, I had never looked at them before. I suppose in this sense it would be right to consider me dumb. What, then, did I look at before? Exactly, I was preoccupied with myself. And why? Because I was concerned with attracting the one I was with. But this man was a blind sort of man, a prophet or an enemy, someone who could never seem familiar."

- Barbara Einzig