Flying into Newark I saw and felt how the deep roots of family and this city still run through my veins.


onto Rhode Island where those who long ago, boarded the Gaspee have passed their rebellious spirit on to me,

those voices that still inhabit Spell Hall speak to me when I try to fall asleep.

Then in the morning I remember his voice and trace the patterns of sound,

that I can still hear outlining in patterns on the walls of his house.

I spoke to him out loud before I left and wished him peace,

and apologized to him under my breath for not listening more when he was alive then I walked around the house in the cold breeze of winter.

Standing in all those shadows,

listening while they spoke.

I let them sink into my memory telling them to become comfortable because I never want them to leave.

I was exceedingly glad to be there, as my depression lifted and I felt ready to go home again.

Now flying out of Warwick I am returning to where I am now and in my veins his blood continues to flow and I carry on his name and where I still manage to listen to.all those voices as l fall asleep.
T.S. Deary

2/2 – 2/4/2020

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