In Memory of Jane Fraser When snow like sheep lay in the fold And wind went begging at each door, And the far hills were blue with cold, And a cloud shroud lay on the moor, She kept the siege. And every day We watched her brooding over death Like a strong bird above its […]
in memory of jane fraser … Read More »
Because I could not stop for Death, He kindly stopped for me; The carriage held but just ourselves And Immortality. We slowly drove, he knew no haste, And I had put away My labor, and my leisure too, For his civility. We passed the school, where children strove At recess, in the ring; We passed
because I could not stop for death … Read More »
… from this deserted future, back into the sphere of our being, the great dance that joins us to our home, to each other and to other creatures, to the dead and the unborn? I think it is love … Standing by Words Wendell Berry
What can turn us … Read More »
Sonnet 73 That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. In me thou seest the twilight of such day As after sunset fadeth in the west, Which by
that time of year thou mayst in me behold … Read More »
Spring and Fall:To a young child Margaret, are you grieving Over Goldengrove unleaving? Leaves, like the things of man, you With your fresh thoughts care for, can you? Ah! as the heart grows older It will come to such sights colder By & by, nor spare a sigh Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie; And
margaret are you grieving? Read More »
… no one will need to be good Oh my soul, be prepared for the coming of the Stranger. Be prepared for him who knows how to ask questions. There is one who remembers the way to your door: Life you may evade, but Death you shall not. You shall not deny the Stranger. They
dreaming of systems so perfect … Read More »
The Swan This laboring through what is still undone, as though, legs bound, we hobbled along the way, is like the awkward walking of the swan. And dying – to let go, no longer feel the solid ground we stand on every day – is like his anxious letting himself fall into the water, which
the swan … Rainer Maria Rilke … Read More »
A Parting Wendell Berry From many hard workdays in the fields, many passages through the woods, many mornings on the river, lifting hooked lines out of the dark, from many nightfalls, many dawns, on the ridgetops and the creek road, as upright as a tree, as freely standing, Arthur Rowanberry comes in his old age
a parting … Wendell Berry … Read More »
… Michael J. Astrue who, it turns out, is an award winning poet writing under the pseudonym of A.M. Juster. A Cancer Prayer Dear Lord, Please flood her nerves with sedatives and keep her strong enough to crack a smile so disbelieving friends and relatives can temporarily sustain denial. Please smite that intern in oncology
a sonnet … from the head of the Social Security Administration … Read More »
