Moving means leaving some things behind. Moving also means rediscovering things.
Thirty-seven years ago, Dean asked me to rebuild an old log cabin that was tilting toward eternal rest. While I was doing that, I wrote poems about the lady with the bonnet, tilted off, like that! And more. Dean threw as many pots, with words and images from the poems, from the cabin, and from wherever Dean finds and invents things.
One day he gave me the drawing, above, and on another day, Loyal and Marilyn stopped by and gave me the second drawing, which had belonged to Joseph Langland, which they found at a sale after Joe's death. The frame and the glass were broken, but I have been harboring it, waiting.
We had to leave a lot of things behind, but not these treasures, and now they have new frames and mounting.
The memories are fresh. The friendships are firm. The cabin stands, still, tilted off, like that.
Conrad -- fun to find your blog and to read a few entries. Hope all is well with you and Mari. Jim Fowler LC '77
ReplyDeleteHello! Am I right that you are somewhere in Texas? And thank you, we are doing well, indeed!
Delete