thisnewday (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thisnewday) wrote2016-08-18 09:23 am
thisnewday) wrote2016-08-18 09:23 am
Entry tags:
(6) A Note to Robert C.
Dear Bob,
In spite of meeting you on mostly pleasant summer mornings, I never wanted to be the "fair weather friend." Especially after I knew. And so this morning I drove here in the rain and once, in the dead of winter, stood in the dim light, below the stark and wind-stirred maples, and listened.
Now the rain is coming down hard, as it has at times this summer. On tennis courts and playgrounds and on the pavilion where I mainly sit these days. Because, for whatever reason, they've removed the benches which were once set out among the trees.
Anyway, it's cold and miserable in the park this morning. I'm huddled in my car, scribbling an occasional note, when I look outside and realize that this is not the place where I'm going to find you.
That if you still exist, it's in the heart of the large family and wide circle of friends who knew and loved you. Not just in the memory of those who might've known you, as I did, from Allen Park.
And so I sit and watch the rain. And count myself lucky to have once been on the periphery of that circle. Of those lives which were touched by yours...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.26 and 8.18.2016
In spite of meeting you on mostly pleasant summer mornings, I never wanted to be the "fair weather friend." Especially after I knew. And so this morning I drove here in the rain and once, in the dead of winter, stood in the dim light, below the stark and wind-stirred maples, and listened.
Now the rain is coming down hard, as it has at times this summer. On tennis courts and playgrounds and on the pavilion where I mainly sit these days. Because, for whatever reason, they've removed the benches which were once set out among the trees.
Anyway, it's cold and miserable in the park this morning. I'm huddled in my car, scribbling an occasional note, when I look outside and realize that this is not the place where I'm going to find you.
That if you still exist, it's in the heart of the large family and wide circle of friends who knew and loved you. Not just in the memory of those who might've known you, as I did, from Allen Park.
And so I sit and watch the rain. And count myself lucky to have once been on the periphery of that circle. Of those lives which were touched by yours...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.26 and 8.18.2016