God Is An Immensity, While This Disease,

It Is Death That Goes Down To The Center Of The Earth, The Great Burial Church The Earth Is, And Then To The Curved Ends Of The Universe, As Light Is Said To Do

Public Radio Is Alive And Kicking, It Always Has Been

Death Is Not Soft-mouthed, Vague-footed, Nearby. It Is In The Hall.

I Am Sensible Of The Velocity Of The Moments, And Entering That Part Of My Head Alert To The Motion Of The World I Am Aware That Life Was Never Perfect, Never Absolute. This Bestows Contentment, Even A Fearlessness.

In Our Opposed Forms Of Loneliness And Self-recognition And Recognition Of The Other, We Touched Each Other Often As We Spoke; And On Shore In Explorations Of The Past, We Strolled With Our Arms Linked.