{"id":64601,"date":"2020-06-27T12:35:11","date_gmt":"2020-06-27T16:35:11","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/?p=64601"},"modified":"2020-06-27T12:55:17","modified_gmt":"2020-06-27T16:55:17","slug":"letter-hour-4-half-marathon","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/2020\/06\/letter-hour-4-half-marathon\/","title":{"rendered":"Letter \/\/ Hour 4 Half-Marathon"},"content":{"rendered":"<pre>Ah, \r\n\r\nSmiles emerge when I think of you standing there: \r\ntall, kind, soft-spoken - the first gentleman I've known. \r\nWe waited for car rides and balanced books that bright afternoon. \r\nYour wit and insight shone through and broke your shyness.\r\n13 at the time, little did we realize a final goodbye would \r\ncome not even ten years later. \r\n13 at the time, our dreams were all possible.\r\nOur world was still hopeful, open to all we'd do, \r\nready for our shaping hands and youthful souls. \r\n\r\nYou studied at Cornell, you were changing the world already. \r\nA car accident off a bridge ended your contributions. \r\nWe had seen each other only briefly at a college party. \r\nYou remained among the finest gentlemen I'd know. \r\nYou still are, crystallized in my mind's eye these decades past. \r\n\r\nWe've all grown older: wrinkles, addictions, children who gave us grandchildren.\r\nYou should be with us. Fatigue is here, yes, but life is still worth the struggles. \r\nOthers from our class died, too. I imagine you there on a bright afternoon, welcoming them \r\nA haunting, silent summer has closed in; we look to our past. \r\n\r\nI think of you and your promise. Our tired world grow brighter in those moments. \r\nI remember you.<\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Ah, Smiles emerge when I think of you standing there: tall, kind, soft-spoken &#8211; the first gentleman I&#8217;ve known. We waited for car rides and balanced books that bright afternoon. Your wit and insight shone through and broke your shyness. 13 at the time, little&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1019,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-64601","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-miscellaneous"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/64601","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1019"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=64601"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/64601\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":65048,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/64601\/revisions\/65048"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=64601"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=64601"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/thepoetrymarathon.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=64601"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}