Dear Melissa,
I do remember you
You had curly hair
And stood by the stair
Up there on Quadra Isle
With a shy smile
Say hello to your mother Jean
I don’t remember your sister’s name
And that’s a shame
But I sort of remember her face
And natural grace
Not all poetry has to rhyme
But this time
I’m writing back, the way you did it
It’s to your credit
You got me to write this form
Since real poetry is born
From a formless place
Which is our Original Face
Zen Buddhists say,
In play.
So if this helps you to be a writer
It will please your new friend
Gary Snyder.