Poem

Erin forwarded me this poem by Jane Kenyon in response to the post on the whisk.

I took the last
dusty piece of china
out of the barrel
it was your gravy boat
with a hard, browndrop of gravy still
on the porcelain lip
I grieved for you then
as I never did before

It is a lovely and poignant poem.

Erin's blog is excellent. It is here.