*Bless You*, a visual poem by Drew Myron.

Dear You (and you and you) —

Now the rain has wore me down, and I'm slipping into sweets and drink and other gluttonies.

To lift the spirits, I turn to poems and find a good one that urges readers to make art from everyday experience, and I raise my hand in praise, yes, this.

I told myself I would write a poem in response to that poem, but here I am, sitting in half-light, watching darkness gather and cold collect and I am not writing a poem. I am writing to you, which is much the same but without profound pause and studied punctuation.

Who knows, really, how this all works?

Some days the hush is deep and you swan through worries. But more often, the chaos swirls and you search for branch, dock, pen, paper, a landing.

You are writing in the dark. A phrase arrives that is not your own, that you do not understand, that you can never know until the words stir and settle and say everything you cannot.

I am writing to self, to sky, to the way gray sucks up light and leaves us cold and lonely, without victory or vices. I am waving, dimly, a shrug of a gesture really, across a distance in which only you can see.

With love,

Drew

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