“I am what the water gave me, / a smoke-ring in a jar, / the braided rope / my ladder-to-the-light, / my shivering bird heart / caught”

“I cadged a complimentary green matchbook with a gold bird icon from the Bell canning jar. Later we'd use the matches to light our spliffs. My fingertips tapped the stem to the gizmo that dinged a bell. Nobody came out. Wrong signal, so I did two bell rings. No response prompted me to tap out a series of bell rings.”

“I am but a firefly caught in his jar and when he looks at me, I can’t help but glow.”

“I will remember what I was, I am sick of rope and chains -I will remember my old strength and all my forest affairs.I will not sell my back to man for a bundle of sugar cane;I will go out to my own kind, and the wood-folk in their lairs.I will go out until the day, until the morning break -Out to the wind's untainted kiss, the water's clean caress;I will forget my ankle-ring and snap my picket stake.I will revisit my lost love and playmates masterless!”

“Goldene Haar!'' he exclaims and takes one of my long braids into his hand. I am not certain I heard right. Did he say ''golden hair'' about my braids?Are you Jewish? The question startles me. ''Yes, I am Jewish.'' How old are you? I am thirteen.'' ''You are tall for your age. Is this your mother?'' He touches Mommy lightly on the shoulder. ''You go with your mother.”

“When I cannot see words curling like rings of smoke round me I am in darkness—I am nothing.”