How happy i am that I have a new job to start to-morrow! I have thoroughly enjoyed working in the sunlight while it was here, but it is time to move on and move on Inside as the weather will take a turn for the hot-chocolate type of temperature. A happy poem which is terribly terribly appropriate came to-day from Garrison Keillor's Writer's Almanac which supplies a good transition from the last handful of cut flowers to the first stack of papercuts in an office type of job. READ IT-- Wendell Barry is my HERO!
Poem: "IV," by Wendell Berry, from A Timbered Choir (Counterpoint). (buy now)
IV
The summer ends, and it is time
To face another way. Our theme
Reversed, we harvest the last row
To store against the cold, undo
The garden that will be undone.
We grieve under the weakened sun
To see all earth's green fountains dried,
And fallen all the works of light.
You do not speak, and I regret
This downfall of the good we sought
As though the fault were mine. I bring
The plow to turn the shattering
Leaves and bent stems into the dark,
From which they may return. At work,
I see you leaving our bright land,
The last cut flowers in your hand.
Good idea: Eating donuts from Krispi Kreme on a rainy day.
Bad idea: Doing donuts in parking lot on a rainy day.
I'd like to add some more thoughts on working outdoors , but this time not in hurricane spit: A short short poem.
Ode to Aloe Vera and sunburn
by Rachel
~~~~~~~~~~~
The sun kissed her
and she blushed
Yet another MPR poem: this one's one of my favorites.
Poem: "To A Frustrated Poet," by R.J. Ellmann, used by permission of the poet.
To A Frustrated Poet
This is to say
I know
You wish you were in the woods,
Living the poet life,
Not here at a formica topped table
In a meeting about perceived inequalities in the benefits and allowances offered to
employees of this college,
And I too wish you were in the woods,
Because it's no fun having a frustrated poet
In the Dept. of Human Resources, believe me.
In the poems of yours that I've read, you seem ever intelligent and decent and patient in a way
Not evident to us in this office,
And so, knowing how poets can make a feast out of trouble,
Raising flowers in a bed of drunkenness, divorce, despair,
I give you this check representing two weeks' wages
And ask you to clean out your desk today
And go home
And write a poem
With a real frog in it
And plums from the refrigerator,
So sweet and so cold.
What do you think about while you're not falling asleep at night? As in, trying to fall asleep, but not?
Anyone got any sure-fire cures for Insomnia? Not fun!!!
Have been reading Garrison Keillor's Wobegon Boy stories (might return it to MCkay's so it can be re-sold for 75 cents again), playing music to fall asleep to, and when it gets to the really wee hours of the morning, listening to the mice play in the plastic Walmart bags in my house.
And i will go ahead and agree with everything Bob said about writing. When I can't sleep , I must write. Perhaps this is the reason I have not been falling asleep until i write: there's so much hay to be spun to gold. Writing is Alchemy.
Good Idea: Burning Fat
Bad Idea: Burning Poison Ivy
Discuss.