Peter Newton

Dear David

I found you out of order. Shoved between Kinnell and Lea. And moved you a few feet to the left where you belong, tucked alongside Hirshfield and Ignatow. Seems fitting. Both such loving souls. Maybe all poets are loving. Never read much Ignatow. Pretty good. The one where he tries to answer his young daughter's question about why people have to die.

one leaf
perfect
as a poem

Just thought I'd drop you a line to say hello. What are fall days for. Let you know that you are safe and sound in the Rutland Public Library where I have not been before today. But I like to stop by different Poetry sections. Read a few friends. Meet new ones. So many different ways to see the world. And then to sing it. I knew you'd appreciate the gesture of being re-alphabetized, so inconsequential, irrelevant in the scheme of things.

last of the rain drops taking
the mountain with them