A little conversation with the dead



Hey, exmearden,

I always meant to comment to you,

but never got around to it,

least not in a long time.

And now you are dead

and, I’m assuming,

without wifi or such.

Still don’t quite know what

I’d say to you if I had

took the time to make that comment

Just the intention, I guess,

to say hey, to connect briefly

for no reason at all





except that






Maybe it was your vibration

I would wander past,

like wheat waving in the field

That sound, you know,

that vibration, I sort of

thought of you like that

Like the sound of wheat

waving in the wind,

receptive like that

Yeah, it was a vibration

even if it wasn’t

really much to do with wheat.


I raise a cup to you,

and drinks it all down.


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  1. Photobucket

    • Edger on November 26, 2010 at 23:25

    See you……………..

    • Robyn on November 26, 2010 at 23:56

    • RiaD on November 27, 2010 at 01:38

    steps on the next part of her journey be quick & light….

  2. fare thee well

    Roy Rogers is riding tonight

    (one of her last essays here)

  3. how very sad!  I often wondered about her — how she was doing!  She faced her dilema with such a fierce courage, armed by her children and family — a blessing!  Her writings were those of such earthy, down home sentiments — she so touched your heart!

    Thank you, NPK, for your poetry — letting us know!

    Very sad, indeed!

  4. My grandmother passed away about 10 years ago. We were very close and in many ways I aspire to have her benevolence.

    In moving about 3 years ago, I happened upon a box that has travelled with me up and down the East Coast since college. The box was deteriorating and I had not looked in it for at least the past 4 or 5 moves. I decided to transfer the contents to a new box.

    As I opened the box to transfer college papers, old pictures, etc. I found a huge stack of letters that my grandmother had written to me when I was in college. I spent hours reading all of them.

    It was as though she reached beyond the threshold to let me know she would always be with me.

    We all connect to others and make an enormous impact on some.

  5. …had just followed some threads talking of her ‘battle with’ (I hate that phrase) cancer.  I read that phrase in obituaries and cringe. ‘Our beloved so-&-so died last week ‘after a courageous battle with cancer!’

    And the obits say this only about cancer.  We never hear ‘after a courageous battle wirh diabetes, aids, parkinsons…

    I’m sorry.  I jusr can’t help feeling that if anything is a couragious battle, it is life itself.  Just being alive is a courageous battle.

    Synchronisticaly, I’ve been thinking of exme the last few days.  So I guess I really DO know her.

    That said, I wish you happy trails on your continuiong journey, exme.


  6. might change your mind.

    MikeS and taylormattd stand in the way


    • melvin on November 27, 2010 at 19:09

    Walking the beach or even just sitting by the Coquille. Maybe spending a night in the little motel that now bears her name.

    She had clarity.

  7. I just read the news a half hour or so ago.  

    She wrote beautifully, and she wrote about what it is to be a person.  

    She wrote with truth and love and grace, and a fine eye.

  8. I created a PDF version of all of exme’s essays that were written here.  Many are original to DD and some are x-posted to her blog and/or DKos.  

    The formatting isn’t the best but that’s a function of how the HTML downloaded and I don’t have a lot of time to clean it up. Comments are also included with each essay but the threading is lost.  

    It is available on Google Docs. (hope this link works) If you download the PDF from there, the Table of contents is linked to each essay in the file (over 200 pgs).   Looks a little better than it does via Google too.  

    • Diane G on December 1, 2010 at 04:15

    on this, but I feel all of you.

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