| Hello Again, February |
[Feb. 13th, 2011|11:51 pm]
rejectomorph
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The last mild day, today, was very nice, with puffy white clouds and lots of singing birds. The camellia bush sported several new blossoms. Within days the blossoms will sport snow. So Winter II, the sequel, will splatter itself all over the fresh green lawn and the soft, new leaves the azalea has just put on. The surprised birds will go into hiding, and the nightly frog songs will be suspended for the duration.
Well, I guess we can't have spring all through February. After all, the angle of the light has been all wrong for such balmy days. Plus, a bit of winter now will be nice to recall when broiling summer arrives in March.
Question of the day: Why has Portia taken to sleeping atop my computer tower? She's going to shed tail hair right into the fan. Cats.
Sunday Verse
First Snow, Kerhonkson - for Alan
by Diane Di Prima
This, then, is the gift the world has given me
(you have given me)
softly the snow
cupped in the hollows
lying on the surface of the pond
matching my long white candles
which stand at the window
which will burn at dusk while the snow
fills up our valley
this hollow
no friend will wander down
no one arriving brown from Mexico
from the sunfields of California, bearing pot
they are scattered now, dead or silent
or blasted to madness
by the howling brightness of our once common vision
and this gift of yours—
white silence filling the contours of my life.
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