Ages ago I received a letter from Jill in the form of a poem she posted on her blog. How lucky am I to have two poet friends writing with me this way (my latest correspondence with Beth is in the post below this one)?! So lucky!
Would you believe I have been in bed all week?
My back is in spasm, and it is difficult
to do much of anything. Before I was injured,
I found your letter in a stack of books
and wished I’d paid attention to the place
it marked. Maybe it meant something.
I should have written back sooner.
How wonderful that you have been able
to spend time at the lake pondering
your thirties! I am sorry about the crows,
but don’t take it personally. They insist
on mocking everyone. What a shame
someone has burdened you with the notion
that you must know your purpose!
What’s wrong with being simple as the grass?
I envy its persistence. The shortest distance
between daylight and darkness is
a straight green line. Its certainty holds
earth in place. I can think of no better way
to spend your thirties.