The Winter Vault by Anne Michaels, pg 1
The future casts its shadow on the past. In this way, first gestures contain everything; they are a kind of map. The first days of military occupation; the conception of a child; seeds and soil.
Grief is desire in its purest distillation. with the first grave—the first time a name was sown in the earth—the invention of memory.
No word forgets this origin.
