|a notebook with the menu of what we ate at the Mermaid Cafe|
on Dame Street in Dublin.
|a letter sent to me from The Dominican Republic|
|a graduation announcement from my daughter-in-law|
|the flyer I made for my son's farewell open house--|
right before he went to Singapore
|a sweet letter that made me cry, written|
by my daughter when she was organizing and cleaning
my kitchen as a Mother's Day present
|Happy Thanksgiving! Love, William|
|Ticket stub from when Dr. Write and I|
were in New York at AWP, and we went to see
Stoppard, and we both cried
|'the Atlantic is a Lethean stream, in our passage|
over which we have had an opportunity to forget
the old world and its institutions.' from 'Walking,'
H.D. Thoreau. I saw this manuscript, written
in Thoreau's hand, in the Concord Public Library.
|a merit badge that never found its way to a sash.|