Carole Sineni

1173 Sea Eagle Watch

Charleston, SC 29412

July 30, 2008


Dear Irving,


I am honored and happy that someone has found me and asked me to be part of this

very creative and touching birthday gift. 


I, as well as most of your students recognized the genius of your work long before it was proclaimed.  It was a delight to hear you read your work almost mystical and when you critiqued my work I believed you read my soul. 


And always you were mischievous, funny, (banana in your ear etc.) and unpretentious and so very sweet and human.


There was electricity in the air around you.


Your poetry, to me, is powerful, almost a biblical power, but always with an exact restraint lest its power might destroy itself.  At your readings I had seen the toll this took on you....

*******

Much has happened to me since you last saw me.  Most important is the loss of my daughter Karen.  She died of breast cancer four years ago. 


I have written about it on my website www.hotmetalpress.net  which I co-edit with a very talented poet, Martin Willitts.


Pudding House press published my chapbook, “Liebestod” last year.  So you see, your influence on me continues.  I think the greatest gift you gave was the absolute quest for the truth. I thank you for this and I thank you for the butterfly kiss of your interest in me.


I am remarried to a kind, intelligent and simple man and I am happy most of the time.


I live in Charleston, SC with Robert and two dogs—big and little.  A Collie, gentle and diffident like Robert, and a Papillon who can truly fly like the butterfly that she is.


Charleston is a really magical city.  I will be hoping to hear from you saying you would like to visit and stay with us.  There is plenty of room!!


If you send an address I would love to send you a copy of the chapbook.....


Stay well, Irving, 

Bless you

Love,


(Carole Sineni) Carole Towers,  aka Carolina



Notes

       for Irving


There could have been a dream

where we walked on leaves of water

along a river.

You speaking to it

teaching me the language of trees.


Or perhaps a cafe where

you and I could copy the coy

chatter and clatter of everyday;


you,

sketching notes on your heart;

blood on the white cloth.



__ (Carole Sineni)

Carole Towers

aka Carolina

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