Once I heard a poet named Ely Shipley. He was as kind as he was talented. Rereading his book, Boy With Flowers, I am struck again by his quiet brilliance. His words do not need my review, only my deep and sincere recommendation.
Do people cry out
not because they’re afraid
to fall, but because
they delight
in their safety and know
they won’t?
—Ely Shipley (Inertia)
