Poetry, notes, and drawings by William Michaelian
Mourning undone is a dry pill. It sticks in your throat like a cry that needs release. It is no wonder they rejoice to grieve.(love the word verification today. "Foopsy". I think I need to buy a dog.)
What a beautiful response, “Foopsy” and all.
You read my mind of late.
And so we feel our way. Thanks, Tess.
"A little farther on were spirits singing."Beautiful! Magical. Reminds me of Dylan:Thunder on the mountain, rolling like a drum
Gonna sleep over there, that's where the music coming from
I don't need any guide, I already know the way
it's the other side of the same coin, rejoice. i felt this just tonight. i laughed at myself. told myself i am lucky to have anything at all to mourn.xoerin
Thanks, Joe. Last night our youngest son was here and he said, “Dante.” Guide or no guide, I guess, who knows what’s just around the bend.And you were right, Erin.
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