Farewell, Godspeed.

 This is my last posting from Christine in the Shire where all the postings began. It is fitting it is November, the month I moved to a chilly basement, in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. The movers who brought my boxes and sofabed from Eureka, California looked around and asked, "You gonna live...?" They didn't even finish the sentence. They didn't know what the faeries of my imagination would do to a concrete floor and leftover furniture. Voila! It became a magical hobbit hole which I release with much reluctance and great affection. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE SHIRE, PACKED UP

I am dazed by the loss.

Where in the five stages

of grief is such an unknown country

devoid of whimsey and elegance located?

The people who will soon inhabit,

conquer, change what to them

will be a substantial, freshened house

with a view of deep woods

and creek, what will they care about?

Will they sense the Ring connection

(Wagner, Tolkien)? the laughter?

the dire straits?

I hope for children.

 I hope for an evergreen

on the deck lasting from December

through February decorated with

generous peanut butter pine cones. 

And heirloom miniature ornaments?

I hope for large dogs and small cats.

I hope Honor's ashes find

a peaceful rest in misty Portland,
city of roses,
  but here in the front yard of Fairoaks Circle

my unlikely landlady's shamrocks

will grow jubilantly, riotously year after year
after year. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

...may the blessings of departures and arrivals be yours...