Andrew Connors

dear andrew,

i have known you since sixth grade, i remember many enchanting things that we've done together....but no memory is as good as being able to hang out with you in the present (except maybe the memory of the two of us streaking through Stop 'n Shop the last night of our high school lives). last night we celebrated your birthday, and last night we celebrated a force of good (thanks for the party favor poem, it rocked my morning toast!).

with ever accretive love,
david


up top is a drawing I did of Andy when we climbed a great tree, this is the poem he wrote while perched on a high branch‘. this pairing is from the book we made together called wildern.

FIRE OF GREEN

In this fire of green we are sitting.

You with your red
snap-case of pencils,

I with my notebook and pen.

The sloping trunk does not bend at all
beneath us in the sunset wash

as hoopskirts of the lamps begin
to let down their light in the houses.

You see the tree
growing out from itself.

For every limb,
a root.

I see only the tunnel of branches
a pure force
straining to escape itself.

I will write of the tree
and you draw it.

In the end we will compare.
In the end, we will eat from each other’s plate.



[‘snowblink]