In a race to clear the top of my head, all of my hairs are winning.

I’ve nabbed no kind of prize in some time, and a strange pride is here held.

A friend sent me a postcard which read: “Instant character’s gonna get you.”

On my wall are a thousand postcards, and a thousand notes to self.

Remember when we stood in the yard frantically waving our arms? We said, “Don’t see me! Don’t see me!”

Countless homes and the untold lives within. The story within us. Points of light upon a landscape. Small, bright bastions holding fast to the face of the thing.

Who sat around each fire? What did they mean to one another?

Your face next to the dog’s, say, breathing deeply. Your face next to your love’s, breathing deeply.

How we were almost marooned! How we just did make port, and then hearth.

Oh All! Thank you! Thank you!

Old face…

I looked new upon you, and realized.

June, I found your book again. And now I knew to read. Thank you! Thank you! You knew to leave what you did, and I am so grateful. Your sense was the gift.

To be ready when – all things come together in fantastic moment. The breath of us well maintained, balance preternatural. Doing. Every action fine and necessary. Family, friend. Natural light. That was the magic of our lives.

Of course it would happen unexpectedly. And of course it would happen then.

We made sensate and coffee. We talked it out.