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Arts and Entertainment: Spring Arts Festival One Month Away
March 24th, 2012

Arts and Entertainment: Cedar Key Paint Out
March 20th, 2012

Arts and Entertainment: Artist Spotlight - Robert Goodlett Cedar Key Poster Winner for Old Florida Celebration of the Arts
March 7th, 2012

Arts and Entertainment: Cedar Key Arts Center (CKAC) Seeking A Program Administrator
March 7th, 2012

Arts and Entertainment: Stuff to do at CKAC
March 2nd, 2012

Arts and Entertainment: Deception by Design
February 29th, 2012

Arts and Entertainment: Cedar Key Arts Center - Mural
February 18th, 2012

Arts and Entertainment: Cedar Key Arts Center - Upcomming Events
January 30th, 2012

Arts and Entertainment: Cedar Key Arts Center - Exhibit
January 27th, 2012

Arts and Entertainment: 2012 Children’s Summer Art Program Benefit Dinner
January 21st, 2012

Arts and Entertainment: SALUTE TO WILDLIFE
January 16th, 2012

Arts and Entertainment: CKAC Youth Art Education
January 2nd, 2012

Arts and Entertainment: Spend a Cozy and Creative January at Cedar Key Arts Center
December 17th, 2011

Arts and Entertainment: Fun at the CKAC
December 13th, 2011

Arts and Entertainment: Empty Bowls
December 1st, 2011

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A Remembrance

A Remembrance

Robin McClary

Luke Zilles died here in Cedar Key about two weeks ago. I doubt that many people knew him because he was a reclusive man and a bit of a grouch. He lived in the house where he died, on Hodges where it is met by Rye Key Drive. The death was from natural causes, but he was sadly alone for the moment of passing. I have been told that he was either born in Panama or lived there as a child. He was educated at universities in New York State and was a retired Professor of English from the State University of Albany.

I met Luke at the Cedar Key poet's workshop. He was a longtime friend of Bill Stalter, another Cedar Key poet who died several years ago. Like Bill Stalter, Luke was an extraordinary poet. He had a published book of poetry called, Conch of Bees. He was also published in The Saturday Review and the New Yorker magazines.

Beyond these scattered thoughts, most of which I learned from some friends of his, I knew very little about him. What I did know was that he was a true wordsmith. He made the language a living thing that marched to the cadences that he sang. When I asked him about his techniques, he growled at me like a cornered wolf. He told me more than once that he, "didn't want to teach me nothing," but I learned anyhow.

I will miss him.

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