Last winter I found a
story on National Public Radio on the 82-year-old poet Donald Hall. Dave and I try to get to at least one of his readings each year. He names the vivid, the deep, and the truthful, all within precise images and stories within his poems. Mostly they say "New England" to us -- but they also speak of honoring what we've seen, who we are, where our lives are taking us.
Today I photographed dandelions, the rock garden by the garage, lilacs budding and blooming. I hope Mr. Hall sees all of those today too, whether out in spring himself, or through his farmhouse window, or in the tender lens of linked memories.
Click here for our list of Donald Hall books on the shelves. Make it a day to treasure.
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