Dear Sylvia, br the Magnolias are in bloom br along Commonwealth Avenue, br the ducklings are paddling br their down across the Public br Garden pools, and br we miss you! br I walked past br Nine Willow Street today, br and remembered how strange br to share the same 'ghosts, ' br or perhaps my ghosts were you: br At night watching the rain br by the window I stood silently br wondering why I was there br at all, why the rain reminded br me of tears, or the voice br I heard between the drops br was not mine, and why br the sadness I felt came from br a distant place, a place br where I would arrive years br later too late to tell you br how much I loved your last br poem, not knowing it br was just thatbr br Dale Edmandsbr br