My dear dear friend Elise Partridge passed away yesterday evening. She was a marvellous poet and an even more so person. Warm loving acute witty skeptical wry and humane. I am sort of reeling with it (though her death was known to be coming for a while) and don’t have much more to offer than that right now. Here though the first lines of the first poem (“Everglades”) of her first book (Chameleon Hours) —
Nothing fled when we walked up to it,
nor did we flinch
Not a bad note on which to open a life’s work. No fear and no frightening. God I’m going to miss her.
The Art of Compost 
This is very sad news. I’m so sorry.
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Thanks Theresa. It very much is.
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This makes me want to read her work even more (I did already). I’m so sorry, my friend. Thinking of you.
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Thank you my dear. I will post more of hers soon. I wish you could have met her. But, and, you shall in words.
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