Monday, September 22, 2014

End-of-Summer Pathos

When the outdoor pot of living decor at Mim's Mediterranean Grill looks like this, 
you can guess that the season is just about gone.

Inside is much more cheerful and my clam basket had so many fries that I couldn't eat them all.

I recently got an autographed copy of a book by my old friend and former cohort,
Gayle Kaune. It's got solid poems inside. I am very happy to have it.


As I click the camera,
light and dark are reversed on film
today's wind ghosts the hair
of children, now grown,
gathered for reunion.

I turn to photograph 
the past: empty swings
rock beside the blind tree
in an overexposed garden,
its statuary reminiscent of baby graves.

  *  *  *

It's all so real, these scenes of domesticity,
they must be photographed by family,
so intimate are the gestures.

In the background people
busy themselves with a violin or a meal.

But the pictures are taken by a poet,
whose only skill is words.
She doesn't realize how happiness
can destroy itself when placed
under glass--doesn't know to set
the meter, the mistake of too much light.

Gayle Kaune
All the Birds Awake
Tebot Bach, Huntington Beach CA, 2011, page19

There is quite a bit to think about as one follows the thought in this poem. I am still working on whether I agree or disagree. . .

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