I received your email, and for the past two days
I've been trying to think what to say.
Words fail me--As you can well appreciate,
an uncomfortable state of affairs for a writer.
Yes, I will miss you.
Yes, I am sad at the prospect of your death.
Yes, I am grateful for our friendship
and how it has enriched my life (and my writing)
over these many years.
But the words sound so trite when put down on paper,
so inadequate to the occasion, the anticipated loss of
a valued friend.
And then this morning, when out walking on my hillside,
I noticed the first signs of summer sliding into autumn:
One of the sugar maples is just beginning to turn,
signaling the changing of the seasons.
And once again I found in nature that peace
that stills the mind and fills the heart.
If I could, I would send you that peace.
As it is, I can only leave you with my sense
of gratitude for the many moments we have shared,
and a sad gladness that our paths crossed--
several times--on our separate journeys.
Godspeed on yours now. I will eat an orange in your honor
and whisper your name to the wind.
I guess that's what I wanted to say.
Farewell, my friend.
[First posted: August 22, 2018]
