As a refuge, as a threat, as a place to live
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Thanks for printing Jim Harrison’s poem “Easter Morning” on the Dog-Eared Page [August 2020]. I found out about Harrison’s death the day after he died: on Easter morning, 2016.
Just a couple of months earlier singer David Bowie had died, and I’d argued with some friends who were overcome with emotion at his passing. “How could you care so much for someone you never met?” I asked. They assured me I simply didn’t understand. And I didn’t — until Harrison died. When I read the news, I pushed back my chair and wept. He was a teacher for many of us right up to the end — and still is.