More lines from a thank you note... Thanks again for breeze stirred ginkgo leaves adrift in silence to the sunlit sidewalk; and for a yellow lawn. for twin cousins who come each year with great aunt Lilly; weighted down with pecan pie bread pudding; with oysters mosca and peanut butter cake. Thanks for another day, for time to listen. thanks for knowing to sit still and listen. for baby sisters who look like dad who looked like great grandmother. Thank you,

More lines from a thank you note... Thanks also... for dirt paths that disappear from the road thanks for uncut forest land and for every mite and stallion abiding there for steepness in hills and fields beyond where trees can grow for flat rock to lay upon beneath sun and moon and circles of stars inside the black night configured outside all imagination unchanged ever by issues of man thanks for the touch of bare feet against dirt a hand to shield sunshine from my eye for the feel of sun against my cheek thanks for a place to be even if in dream untouched by pavement and electronic signal thanks for geese in southern flight for sight to see them for breath Many thanks

More lines from a thank you note... Thanks also for a Mississippi house, for each swing and slide and tree tied rope we raced to on arrival. Mostly thanks to her for each embrace, for teaching us to sing. For training us to become less afraid and how to make a karo pecan pie. Thanks for every story of cattle drives, of how daddy became the mule's master. Thanks for each cousin who came near to play. Thanks for a twisting road back to Memphis. Many thanks.

Thanks again for breeze stirred ginkgo leaves adrift in silence to the sunlit sidewalk; and for a yellow lawn. for twin cousins

Thanks also for familiar faces, for boys continually resembling uncle rex; who these seventy three years has remained in France;