Another from Canoe Day, during the grandchild visit. These are the two oldest girls. It was a perfect day, not hot, not too cold, not windy. River water quite warm in the shallows. There is nothing much more graceful than the water play of children, really.
It's been a busy day for me, taking care of a bunch of annual maintenance chores; so now I am filled with a rare virtue. A bright spot was the tender email from a poetry friend back in California.
It's been a busy day for me, taking care of a bunch of annual maintenance chores; so now I am filled with a rare virtue. A bright spot was the tender email from a poetry friend back in California.
How Poetry Comes to Me
It comes blundering over the
Boulders at night, it stays
Frightened outside the
Range of my campfire
I go to meet it at the
Edge of the light
Boulders at night, it stays
Frightened outside the
Range of my campfire
I go to meet it at the
Edge of the light
Gary Snyder, quoted in the introduction to The Light Within the Light; portraits of Donald Hall, Richard Wilbur, Maxine Kumin and Stanley Kunitz by Jeanne Braham with engravings by Barry Moser, which I described in last night's post. I am going to bed early tonight, and really looking forward to dreaming a short poem, like I used to, many years ago.
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