I wanted to believe that you were waiting for me. I wanted to believe that…
It is sweet Emily’s birthday today, whose poems fed me when I was a teenager and whose wild dashes and refusal to live by convention fueled my sense of possibility. One of my high school English teachers nicknamed me Emily after her and for my propensity to sit anywhere to write, even the hallways, when I heard a poem inside of my head. She has always felt kindred to me, and so I am out with her, with lanterns, looking for her and for me and for the way back to all of you, both of us with our hands full of light.
All peace to each one of you today. Dora