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Dear Jack, or Doc in pencil [1976] in pencil Miller, Charlie H.

                             good to hear that you're ever progressing, out of journalism

and onto memoirs. How are your bones, tubes and genes? We are terribly busy, w/bookshop, farm, & secret subversion such as writing, but never too busy to hoist a Guinness for the exiles of Moberly! Lark is 5 yrs 4 mos, & full of syrup & sass - he's cross-country skiing w/Lynn, because it warmed up to 10 degrees F! Thanks for remembering us - I'll send Earth Poemsunderlined for you to review in '76.

                                                                                       Love
                                                                                         Charlie

image--sketch of branches of ferns, hemlocks and others in a winding brook

poem

                                                  Yankee Energy

Up and up we went, my infant son and I, in a pine - y water walk along a rock - raisined brook in a hemlock - hairy grove where water leapt over slabs of rocks past blocks of boulders guarding pools and scoops.

Up and up we went beneath the aromatic pines, spying on nurseries of fingerling trout, stepping on rock tips over or barely under the flow (just love walking on water!) , up and up we twisted with the big brook that led us to its tiny source on a slope where bears had tunneled the briar patches.

Beside wind-sculptured wild apples and innocent armies of fern we went under a puritan sun and lambing clouds to frown down onto a regional atomic plant hideously neat, skirted by a charged fence, aiming its invisible arrows at a suspect future.

                     Charlie Miller