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Willi, Home
- Wesleyan University Press
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Willi, Home In memory Last night, just before sleep, this: a bright daffodil lying in bed, with the sheet pulled up to its chin. Willi, did I ever know you? The shine in the lamplight! of your intelligent glasses, round and humorous. Did I ever know myself? When I start bullshitting I see your eyebrows fly . . . This book is dedicated to Willi, whom I do not know, whom I know. The words in my head this morning (these words came from an angel): “It’s too late to say goodbye. And there are never enough goodbyes.” I know: the daffodil is me. Brave. Willi’s an iris. Brave. Brave. Tall. Home. Deep. Blue. To Raphael, angel of happy meeting The pear tree buds shine like salt; the stretch of new-ploughed earth holds up five colors of brown to the strict sun— like an old woman’s open hand, at rest. The young people of this house wake up, one by one, they set out . . . Further away, still their voices hold, across the fog; and the pull of the ropes —these branches rubbing in the rain— home.deep.blue 167 ...