Dear Mike and Carol
I've been so touched by all the tributes from friends and family: what an incredibly rich life you've led together. I myself seem to be at a loss for words other than to say that our hearts are with you and we hold you close. I'm sending you a playful/serious Phyllis Webb poem (It's from a section called "The Birds" in her book titled Water and Light) that seems right for this moment. I hope it resonates for you, "if only for the sound of"
Grey-eyed dryad, have you seen one if only for the sound of grey-eyed dryad. Or gull gone into blue empyrion, the liftof wind fabulous, flowing, free-for all.Nothing is pure praxis,axis of this globe sends degree by degree us into curvedpath of portent, accident, perishableeye-sad dryad. Look at her. Here.The varied thrush, the orchard oriole,the crying dove, the skin-smooth olivegreen, olive-green, with a red pimiento heart.
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