Yuri Lebedev in his dacha garden
Being Wise Fifty-Five February 20, 2022
I dreamt I was falling. I was awake and then suddenly
asleep and falling. My arms went out to catch myself.
I was awake and lying flat. I pushed the covers off
and put on my shoes. Orange light behind the curtains.
It was after eight. I heated tea, added honey. Hot, sweet
tea helps me stay awake and warm enough. I wanted
to remember my archetype: Healer, yes. Shakespeare’s
sister–that appeal for my words to touch the lives of
other people. A beloved partnership. Yes, I had/have
my loved man. Then mastery. Elusive but finally
captured in Kostroma, my Russian city. Yuri found
it among my words. How lucky I’ve been and am.
I won’t fall. I’m grounded now.
Judy, Grace Topping asked about you today, so I went hunting and found you! It's lovely to see your poetry here. Glad you're doing well.
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