To a New Friend
To a New Friend
Daylight disassembles into sound—
the hum I hold in my head
is the hum you hold in your head, too.
The poem, written or unwritten,
is enough to see us through the thaw.
Soon the fields will fill with names.
Mud will rupture with indescribable color.
Joseph, I’m writing a psych stack. My work is anchored in the best of ‘old time psychology’. It’s designed to help folks walk through a psychoanalytic journey. I am necessarily starting with the inner psychic world of infancy. Just the sounds, just the music, just the sensory experience. It’s hard for us to recall. Your poems actually resonate with the best of our chilhood experiences. You might find my stack of interest. https://homecookedanalysis.substack.com/. Many blessings, Diane
Oh my, what an uplifting poem. Ahh… the mood shift. Thank you Joseph.