Dear Emerson
Dear Mr. Emerson
I took a walk with
you today-
you with your
walking stick, I
with mine.
(Though I struggled to
keep up with
your long-legged
strides.)
When we spoke,
you filled me in
on Mr. Alcott's
most recent shenanigans
and brilliance.
And I filled you in
on my mother's.
We both laughed
about the odd
and substantial
sizes of our noses.
You shared with me
like a friend,
who had the intelligence
and the worthiness
to confide these parts
of ourselves without
pride or shame.
I needed that.
As always,
you did more
listening than
speaking, which
I deeply appreciated.
It felt like kindness,
patience and
acceptance.
I needed that too.
When we reached
the summit,
neither of us spoke.
We both just
looked out over the
autumn New England
landscape and
listened to the breeze
move through the
tall pines
that surrounded us.
It felt like
letting go.
I needed that the most.
Take good care
Mr. Emerson.
I will see you
again soon.
-Me
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