Light

Naturally, I had my camera in my pocket when I came out of the meeting 

of the Camera Club of Eagle tonight. This is the entrance to Eagle's City Hall, 

where we have our meetings. I met my friend who ran for the legislature

in this state controlled by not-her-party. She was pleased that, while not winning, 

she made a much better showing than people thought she would be able to.

In Galway Kinnell's collection, to which I returned after his recent death: The Avenue Bearing the Initial of Christ into the New World; poems 1946-1964, there is much excellent poetry. This is part 2 of the poem called "For Robert Frost" which is a poem in 5 parts. And maybe tomorrow I can forget about elections. For a while.

For Robert Frost

2

I saw you once on the TV, 

Unsteady at the lectern,

The flimsy white leaf

Of hair standing straight up

In the wind, among top hats,

Old farmer and son

Of worse winters than this,

Stopped in the first dazzle

Of the District of Columbia

Suddenly having to pay

For the cheap onionskin,

The worn-out ribbon, the eyes

Wrecked from writing poems

For us---stopped,

Lonely before millions,

The paper jumping in your grip,

And as the Presidents

Also on the platform

Began flashing nervously

Their Presidential smiles

For the harmless old guy,

And poets watching on the TV

Started thinking, Well, that's

The end of that tradition,

And the managers of the event

Said, Boys this is it

This sonofabitch poet

is gonna croak,

Putting the paper aside

You drew forth

From your great faithful heart,

The poem.

Galway Kinnell   op. cit. pages 142-143.

Eight-line stanzas, except for the extra line, "The poem," in the last stanza. I remember this so well, the bright light on Frost's shock of white hair, holding my own breath until he finished, the bright promise of the young president. . .

     Now all are gone, Galway, Robert, Jack. . .