Also- HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
When I came to bed I found a book lying on my pillow. It was the Complete Poems of Elizabeth Bishop and it was opened to a poem with a note from my mother saying read Sandpiper for a bedtime treat. So I did, and so I shall say to you.
The roaring alongside he takes for granted,
and that every so often the world is bound to shake.
He runs, he runs to the south, finical, awkward,
in a state of controlled panic, a student of Blake.
The beach hisses like fat. On his left, a sheet
of interrupting water comes and goes
and glazes over his dark and brittle feet.
He runs, he runs straight through it, watching his toes.
--Watching, rather, the spaces of sand between them,
where (no detail too small) the Atlantic drains
rapidly backwards and downwards. As he runs,
he stares at the dragging grains.
The world is a mist. And then the world is
minute and vast and clear. The tide
is higher or lower. He couldn't tell you which,
His beak is focussed; he is preoccupied,
looking for something, something, something.
Poor bird, he is obsessed!
The millions of grains are black, white, tan, and gray,
mixed with quartz grains, rose and amethyst.