Are pre-cotillion serenades by upper classmen still obligatory. It was the sum and total of him, ranked with moonlight and with stars inside universal universe. Nothing touched him or went by him that was not better from proximity. Histories of old were made brand new by brushing up against him. Pretty heady stuff these NYT obits.
Nothing is as planned once lilacs and the rose go by.
Some fairies gamboling in the wood are heard to speak about a lack of hazels this year and much too many beech and brier. Bring some sycamore, some vine, I heard one say. They must be building rafts to sail the autumn rapids out of here. Some lilies have come back despite another early winter. They struggle from behind a row of meditations not yet said aloud.