To Hold on to Words

I had never realized how hard it would be as I got older to hold on to words, to hold one's presence in the world with any conviction particularly in a world so convulsed by rage and insult. When one's steps become more faltering, the horizon falls to your toes--but I am of the lucky ones, still sitting in a room in a place where I do not cower in fear of so many things. And those I love when they need help, will be able to find it. No armed presence--such a simple element of human safety but so missing from so many lives.

If my words become locked away, find me here or in my books, or at the Lesbian Herstory Archives, if you so desire. See what sense meant to a fem lesbian from the 1950s who traveled beyond her means, who knew the love of women of great heart.