Yes, Sir, Mr. Silverstein

About to start a new project and it’s dark and light, solid and ethereal, and I am scared-excited-worried-brave…and I close my eyes and remember Shel’s poem & tell myself all I need to do is start…

Where the Sidewalk Ends

There is a place where the sidewalk ends

And before the street begins,

And there the grass grows soft and white,

And there the sun burns crimson bright,

And there the moon-bird rests from his flight

To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black

A...