goodbyes, pt. 2


Helen sent me this picture, taken a while back, when she still lived in New York, and I still had all my hair (I cut 14 inches off last week).  I thought I’d include the picture and the poem she wrote about leaving.


The city is sad I am leaving her again

I talked to her about it at length

Her spirit keeps pushing and pulling

Letting me go

Calling me back

Just the kind of love I’m used to

I’ll get behind it this time

Steam roll

This time I won’t say goodbye


30 January 2009

Waverly Diner


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