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Looking out my Backdoor: A rendezvous with death

I woke in the night reciting lines from WWI poet Alan Seeger’s, “I Have a Rendezvous with Death.” Where did that come from? “At some disputed barricade, When spring comes back with rustling shade, And apple blossoms fill the air … .”

I haven’t heard that poem since high school. How could I have remembered?

Ironically, I’ve never felt more intensively alive than today. Getting a new hip last winter literally gave me a new life. I’ve always liked the rain but this morning when I walked outdoors, it seemed like the world had been freshly created. Like the First Morning. T...

 

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