I published the first twelve installments of Polylith from February 2019 through January 2020. The images that recurred throughout those essays formed the lattice for many of my subsequent writings, and continue to pop up in new but familiar forms.
During winter 2020, I revised the letters into the beginnings of a short book. Subsequent happenings in the world and in my own life whisked me into rich new territory, and I found the book — in the particular form it had taken, at least — tragically out of time. That can happen! I forked the writings into the compost pile, and there they provide rich humus for new poems and essays every time I dig in.
I’ve considered including the letters here again in their revised form, but I haven’t decided. This note is just a pitchfork stuck into the pile. The gardener is still at work!