Mists

By David Clark Greenwood

I’m sad to say that I have very little memory of Charis.  During my childhood she was away in college or married, living in Provo or Rapid City.  My most vivid memory is when Mom and Dad walked into the room where I was watching TV and told me that she had died.  Most of my understanding of her came to me through her poetry.  I read through her book many times when Bill published it, and I listened to tapes of its reading on a radio show.  I know her as a poet with a gentle nature that is both defiant and accepting at the same time.  I know her through family photographs and movies.  I feel a great loss that I never knew her, or if I did, it’s lost in the mists of childhood.