the veins of the earth.
~D.H. Lawrence, from “When the Ripe Fruit Falls,” The Complete Poems..., pp. 504-05
This poem was read at the last rites of our colleague Iris Boivin many years ago and is fitting to be read at the passing rites of any fulfilled part of creation: especially now for Zachary May, our colleague who lived his 26 years to the hilt and blessed others with his iron courage and joyous heart. ~jpc
O to add a glisten to creation. Namaste.































