SABRINA SEELIG

And still I dream of a bargain.
You ask for a cup of tea.
Here you are
dressed so smartly.
Your hair-
pure yellow
like a doll-
and your eyes-
still
blue,

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She woke me up on the train. I was sitting on the top. We shared grape juice.
The wind was blowing strong. I was reminded of Woody Guthrie, playing guitar in the rain. Ducking underneath tunnels, our hair blew around our ears, knotting each strand. The western sky was filled with clouds that should have been our pillows. I told her it was too late to be doing this. We could not be here. It’s impossible! She said to me, it’s not in the head, it’s in the heart.

This is what I said to Sabrina at the celebrations of Her spirit in Hope, Maine;

Dearest Bean,

I have been struggling all week with that to say today. I wanted so badly to write something epic, perfect, and gorgeous to you. I wanted to build you a candle shrine of words, something that would serve to tell how much you mean to me, how unparalleled I think you are.

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