Way in the back, I’ve cleared a space,
( for all that’s stale,
begun to mold,
release a stink )
a holding place to decompose
those leftovers
which kept too long
turned slowly rank.
Here such leavings as fear and hate can
reconstitute,
turn dark and moist,
give fertile choice.
JDG
aholdingplace 
When I run across something like this, that you’ve written, that moves me so much, it makes me think. I was dubious, at best, when you told me about this blog, but reading pieces like this makes me realize that my love of language is one of the finest legacies you’ve given me.
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