And So I must Imagine is about my sense of place and family heritage, my city as I reflect on its past, present and future. Families and friends, homes and second homes, and cities where one has lived most of a lifetime draw ones unique lifelines. I lengthen my lifelines everyday.
[A Poem from the book] Letters There is something about opening an envelope from a friend written in hand stained with a raindrop slipped through the door so the dog will not run out barking and leaping.
I sit at the table to read and reread. I know the handwriting read what I want to hear say what I think to myself, and put it in my drawer to season.
I will discover new words tell you about friends who have missed you give you that recipe I said I would send plan as if tomorrow were yesterday and you lived around the corner. I will pick up the pieces that made us friends and dust them off, gently.
