The rain began in the evening hours. It was soft and uncertain at first, then gathered in the dark, and by early morning was driving through the opened window just above my head. Small slaps of water woke me from a deep slumber, and for a few minutes I just lay there, feeling the rain against my face, the cats pressed against my leg, the lyrics from Isbell’s song Go It Alone playing over and over in my sleep-softened mind.
Find me a place
With salt on the roads
I’ll do what I’m told, buy what I’m sold again.
Summer is over, the edges of the days coming closer together. The leaves are turning fast now, soon to wither and drop. The roads will be slick with them.
Ben Hewitt 
everything should be made as simple as possible, but not simpler a.e.
I’m back. I’m back because good writing is worth going two miles back for.
Ben: this is real good.
Reader: if this little piece doesn’t send something through the heels of your feet, you need to kill all six of your televisions and consider a first library card.
Plough Monday, It reminds me of your writing. Ben, nicely done.
“keep it in your mind and not forget
That it is not he or she or them or it
That you belong to”
Beautiful! Nice to hear your words again.
Ben,
My book is in. I’d like to send you a copy. Where should I send it.
All my best, Jesse
jesseburke.com | wildandprecious.co | 401-744-4990
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Jesse, your book looks amazingly beautiful! Hope it is well received by all.
You expounded this in such a pretty manner that i can feel it
beautiful images, Ben! Fun to have just signed on to your blog!
Do you ever get to Montpelier? If so, let me know. I’ve got a little TA something I’d like to give you.
xxooliz
Wow!
Nice… As Thoreau said, “I feel this difference between great poetry and small: that in the one, the sense outruns and overflows the words; in the other, the words the sense.”
wow they are good
intriguing 🙂