Friday, June 9, 2017


I’m a terrible poet.  In fact, I don’t understand the intricacies of most poems.  But Dinah Maria (Mulock) Craik (1826-1887) wrote a friendship poem that I’ve almost memorized.   

I want to be this kind of friend.

Oh the comfort—
The inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person,
Having neither to weigh thoughts,
Nor measure words—but pouring them
All right out—just as they are—
Chaff and grain together—
Certain that a faithful hand will
Take and sift them—
Keep what is worth keeping—and with the breath of kindness
Blow the rest away.

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