Years End Years Beginning
βΎοΈ βΎοΈ βΎοΈ For you, who own the sky, will you not dance beneath the northern lights, or hide under Glen Coeβs quilt of white? Breathe bonfires in Acadia, Maine, uncork the bottle, drink the Champagne, observe your child, rowing on hisΒ lake, cradled by mountains in the hush before wake, long sweeps of his oars, form a perfect sphere, reaching for hope and the endless shore. Tonight,β¦

















