Dear Harold,

Paper bags and pastry dough

Are your canvases

(Sometimes a hot cocktail dress)

The last time you came to Kona


I left before your reading

Missed the chance to take your photograph.

I was in a hurry to see someone

Who was not in a hurry to see me

And I’m sorry.

I feel like I should know you

Better than I do

After all these years

And I’m honored to be among those

You hold dear

But not deserving.

Let’s take advantage of this mild winter

Meet for coffee, a drink, words

Tell me your story

And I’ll tell you mine

I’ll take your photograph in black and white

On some dark street corner

And I’ll tuck it into my copy of 10 Letters

And tell people,

I knew you.

2 thoughts on “Dear Harold,”

  1. Dear Julie,

    If you listen
    You’ll hear that silence
    You know
    The one that never ends
    It exists somewhere
    A hummingbird’s wing
    The flat silence
    Of a boulder
    In Moab
    I’m not sure why
    But that silence
    Is comforting
    Like watching
    Turkey vultures
    At Letchworth state Park
    In late august
    You breathe
    When you watch them
    Just breathe
    That’s all that

    Yes we should meet for coffee.
    You name the time and place.


    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s