It was the week we had our first dinner guests, the world slowly opening up post vaccination. They were the same friends we had our final dinner party with just before the pandemic lockdown. A coming full circle. A version of the good life. And it made me think of another, earlier good life, one like the one described in this poem.
“...and it makes me nostalgic
For the years I lived on coffee and bread
Hungry all the time”
