Light goes on flying
Suddenly, it’s November 1st. Day Four of Day One of my challenge to be complaint-gripe-whine-and-gossip-free. Today I lasted until 8:18am.
Light goes on flying. Soon it will be 2008. Imagine that. Light goes on flying. And I know that in the coming weeks, I may be here less as I finish the manuscript for my next book, which many have suggested be called some variation of 37days. And so, as I retreat into that special chocolateandEarlGreyandcelerystickfueled place officially called Writer’s Hell, I may leave you with a poem or picture or two or three, until I return. For when December arrives, we’ll be honoring Ellouise’s sister by learning the alphabet in reverse while the light goes on flying.
For today, my pal W S Merwin sets the mood:
Unknown Age
-W S Merwin
For all the features it hoards and displays
age seems to be without substance at any time
whether morning or evening it is a moment of air
held between the hands like a stunned bird
while I stand remembering light in the trees
of another century on a continent long submerged
with no way of telling whether the leaves at that time
felt memory as they were touching the day
and no knowledge of what happened to the reflections
on the pond’s surface that never were seen again
the bird lies still while the light goes on flying
