I turn my gaze toward the ruins of bOrtahisar/b, the lives that must have been, the lives that still breathe among them. Bent covered women inch up and down the various inclines and declines; men walk briskly through the golden dried grass, b..../b Hudson River as Zubin Mehta conducted Yo Yo Ma, crying together when your father died and when my mother was diagnosed with kidney disease?and, during our last bittersweet bvacation/b, walking the circumference of tiny Antigua island. ...
