C: Tonight, I find myself quite drunk (a current character flaw that I reckon you, of all my contemporaries, will find most forgivable) and reminiscing through a box of artifacts--letters, notes, print-out, leaves, pineneedles, poems, pens, maps,--a box of things I could not bare to explore till now (drunk, distant, or otherwise). While smoking a bummed Pall Mall (another character flaw you and the economy will hopefully, forgive), it occurs to me that there is nothing like listening to you play music or enjoying our quite conversations in the dark under a gazebo in the landscape of a Lake we surely both love, "under a sky strewn with stars," as Mark Strand would describe, or in the atmosphere of an anticipated summer storm like the one that marked one of those last nights we all shared.
Stars or storms, I hope that this note finds you well and happy or as near to it as any of us dream.
v.
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