Dear Friend of Poetic Medicine, …whose morning-time begins, like fresh linen smoothed flat by the weathered hands of this one life That’s Where You Can Hear Good Singing These lines I am drawing out from my poem January 1 say that in some way we, that you and I, even with our weathered hands, have fresh linen to start this year with. I have quoted this from Rainer Maria Rilke many times: You must give birth to your images. They are the future waiting to be born. I want our fu