I have been reading Ralph Earle's beautiful-to-look-at newly published poetry book. He described the first half of the book as a meditation, a way of coping with his divorce. Although my own divorce was long ago and I have been happily married now for over 20 years to DG, I found myself reliving the heart break through Ralph's words. In a few well crafted stanzas Ralph tells a story: "No matter how often we start the story differently, it ends the same: water flows" . . . . . "hinting at something I do not grasp: the gap between what is described and what is lived" . . . . . "How can this be the place we watched minnows play the sandy inlet" . . . . . "If I could, I would stitch my hand to her wrist, stitch it with pine needles" . . . . . "There is no word for the way that water clings to leaves when the sun reinvents itself out of the broken storm" . . . .
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