Mornings in the Garden with Graham

Last month I found myself in upstate NY to attend the wedding of one of my favorite cousins, Phil to his beloved Alice.  As luck would have it, they sat my trio at a table full of creatives and I spent the evening chatting with a poet.

"Who are your favorite poets", the man with long white hair and kind eyes asked.   I replied, "I love different poets for different poems and I love different poems at different times".

(He nodded)

There was a momentary silence then clinking of glasses.   The sound reminded me of celesta music, and I smiled for the knowing of that.

The sun set behind the mountains and there was dancing and laughter.  Ethereal wish lanterns floated off into the night sky and my little boy chased after them, his long hair floating in the darkness under his summer fedora.

Flash forward to this moment, a mysterious parcel arrived from the poet.  It is filled with soul food.  I smile, grab the stack and slip outside to the garden.