After All These Years, I Feel So

Lately, The World Felt Fragile, Like A Blown Egg, As If It Might Shatter Beneath A Careless Touch.

They Turned A Distracted Gaze On The World, Wide-eyed, Somehow, And Questioning.

He Carried Paul Inside And Up The Stairs. He Gave Him A Drink Of Water And The Orange Chewable Aspirin He Like And Sat With Him On The Bed, Holding His Hand...this Was What He Yearned To Capture On Film: These Rare Moments Where The World Seemed Unified, Coherent, Everything Contained In A Single Fleeting Image. A Spareness That Held Beauty And Hope And Motion - A Kind Of Silvery Poetry, Just As The Body Was Poetry In Blood And Flesh And Bone.

She Didn't Love Him And He Didn't Love Her; She Was Like An Addiction, And What They Were Doing Had A Darkness To It, A Weight.

The City Of Pittsburgh Gleaming Suddenly Before Her . . . So Startling In Its Vastness And Its Beauty That She Had Gasped And Slowed, Afraid Of Losing Control Of The Car