Back from Colorado. Telluride all the way to the waterfall, then Boulder. Great time walking through streams, wet feet and socks, a picnic, then pizza later. It is an unspeakable lift to be among those living spirits so close to me: sister, neices. But all the while heartbroken. Heartbroken as hell. It's all a man can do to keep going sometimes. And you can't help but wonder if there will ever be a way out of this evertoil of pain. The constant swimmer -- needing breath. It helps that I have to pack again and get the sea legs ready. I am off to Germany, then Turkey, the south coast, all the way from one hundred degrees to ninety degrees, almost greek to roman, but this time I will have the spread thin fan of the Aegean Sea. No matter the deeping blue, I wish she was coming with me.

--

A poem by Raymond Carver (that I return to over and again, in just such times)

Woman Bathing

Naches River. Just below the falls.
Twenty miles from any town. A day
of dense sunlight
heavy with odors of love.
How long have we?
Already your body, sharpness of Picasso,
is drying in this highland air.
I towel down your back, your hips,
with my undershirt.
Time is a mountain lion.
We laugh at nothing,
and as I touch your breasts
even the ground-
                        squirrels
are dazzled.