So one of the beautiful poems in this book,
I just want to send out to all of you tonight.
I think I was thinking about this poem not just as a poem
that we all need as we head into the next presidential election
and as we live in this country together,
but I was thinking about this poem
when I was thinking about how much I
was going to miss being there in person with you tonight.
So this is called what you--
something-- [LAUGHS] says What You'd
Want to Remember by Miriam Marty Clark.
Yeah, let's not forget what we experienced in the pandemic.
I say to myself, what you'd want to remember?
Now, daylight spent, darkness falls before supper.
Votives flickering down the long table, and voices.
Someone leaning in to hear, or back, to laugh or consider,
someone reaching over to touch, sensitive, kind, not
out, but over, across the dark.
It wasn't any one thing you'd want to remember later,
a story, gesture, a beautiful face
animated in the candlelight.
The glass is refilled again and again.
And how late you stayed, talking into that autumn night.
You'd need an old word for what it was.
Our common weal, you'd need that when you thought back.
[APPLAUSE]
Thank you, Derek.
I know you can't see me, but I'm looking up at you.
And you're always been a little larger than life.
And I mean that in the best way, but literally this evening.
And this is what I was going to say if Derek was here.
Thank you, Derek.
It's about time we got you down to the Poetry Center
to bring some of that Pacific Northwest poetry magic
to the desert Southwest.
But even though you're not here in person,
I think it's clear that Derek shared that magic with us
tonight.
So thank you brother for that.