We hear him and take him among us, like a wind of music,
Like the ghost of a music we have somewhere heard;
We crowd through the streets in a dazzle of pallid lamplight,
We pour in a sinister wave, ascend a stair,
With laughter and cry, and word upon murmured word;
We flow, we descend, we turn . . . and the eternal dreamer
Moves among us like light, like evening air . . .
Conrad Aiken
May you continue to heal in the Afterlife. I offer what I can, with kind regards.
Lily- Lily Strange
This is the 40th anniversary of my spectral friend's birth. I left this message at the Find a Grave site. I know it actually makes him uncomfortable when people leave these tributes to him, but he does appreciate being remembered. He just wishes he wasn't being remembered as "that dead guy." That's not where he's at any more.
A virtual hug to a dear friend that I'm glad I met.
