Things I am ecstatic with; the arrival of another day,
having someone I know return from the dead.
I was walking down the street
and a local, Mary, started walking alongside me.
She seemed drawn, said a fellow
my neighbor was passed away, did I know?
She pointed to my neighbors house.

I fell silent,  sick for a few days from the news.

 Finally made a note and dropped it in their, her,  mailbox.
I walked away with my big dog and the door opens;  its ...Lee.
Dressed ready for work,  he's a big guy, mostly upper body.
He has spoken to me about Conga, San Francisco, drum circles.
He has the hands for it, the heart for it. Standing in the door alone and grinning-
(I pulled the letter from the box, he doesn't seem to notice. )
We talk a minute, he's toothpick in mouth and counting his money in his own doorway.
He says that someone did pass, the fellow
who'd lived there before them, Mr Bates.

I am sorry for that-and that Mary did look drawn.
but I have to say I am so very happy now that he's alive;
it took 10 years to get to know them at all and they
listen so well, when I play my horn in the field next to their house.
For smoothness I think. 

jacquelyn sauriol dit sansoucy 2005