Where as they speed down U street the powerfully soft-spoken older poet in the front seat who calls everyone "my sister" or "my brother" offers words of wisdom including, "you come into this world alone and you might go out of it alone, " to the younger but no longer young poets in the back seat who are (if they are lucky) in the middle of their lives and on their way to celebrate their new book and what will be (if they care for it) a life-long friendship.




Where, outside the hotel room, a woman laughs, a door slams shut, a child runs by asking, "stop at the wall, this wall?" and then, after a few moments of what seems at first like silence, the interior space offers up its sound for observation: a quiet gurgle like a fish tank filter, a low rumble like a washer-drier in the next room.

(DC)