Here’s the poem from which the book title and section titles come, the last poem, as is fitting for an Afterword:
I have come to you in the way that poets do—
up from paper, out of ink, into the inner eye.
Now you have seen these rivers and mountains, if dimly,
the way they would emerge from morning haze.
And you have met me and mine, strangely familiar,
as those you almost recognize in dreams.
Look up from the page, from this world into yours,
tinted now as a drop of ink will stain a quart of wash.
I look up from the same page and see you,
aflicker, across a fire in the dark.
Here is a video of me reading two poems from A Drop of Ink, “Your Near Immortal Beard” and “The Bus to Common Center,” at the Hookah House in Potsdam, NY.