Journeys

Because he lived, next door a child
To see him coming often smiled,
And thought him her devoted friend
Who gladly gave her coins to spend.

Because he lived, a neighbor knew
A clump of tall delphiniums blue
And oriental poppies red
He'd given for a flower bed.

Because he lived, a man in need
Was grateful for a kindly deed
And ever after tried to be
As thoughtful and as fine as he.

Because he lived, ne'er great or proud

Or known to all the motley crowd,

A few there were whose tents were pitched

Near his who found their lives enriched.

Edgar A. Guest

After returning home for a few days I'm back in Chapel Hill, already. Once I got back it didn't really feel like I'd left, these two places just feel so utterly separate from one another that when I'm in one it is hard to imagine what is happening in the other. It was good to be home for a bit though.

I thought the words of this poem were lovely. . .