Wednesday, November 27, 2013

friends and poems = true soul food


You came in a dream, yesterday 
--The first day we met 
you showed me your dark workroom 
off the kitchen, your books, your notebooks. 
Reading our last, knowing-last letters 
--the years of our friendship 
reading our poems to each other, 
I would start breathing again. 
Yesterday, in the afternoon, 
more than a year since you died, 
some words came into the air. 
I looked away a second, 
and they were gone, 
six lines, just passing through.
for Adrienne Rich