Clock Linda Pastan Sometimes it really upsets me— the way the clock’s hands keep moving, even when I’m just sitting here not doing anything at all, not even thinking about anything except, right now, about that clock and how it can’t keep its hands still. Even in the dark I picture it, and all its … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 11/08/2015 – all those compulsive timepieces
Late September Song Linda Pastan With the sound of a freight train rushing through the trees, the first strong wind of autumn makes each leaf sing the song of its own execution.
In the Forest Linda Pastan The trees are lit from within like Sabbath candles before they are snuffed out. Autumn is such a Jewish season, the whole minor key of it. Hear how the wind trembles through the branches, vibrato as notes of cello music. Notice the tarnished coppers and browns, the piles of leaves … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 10/02/2105 – The trees are lit from within like Sabbath candles
Bronze Bells of Autumn Linda Pastan Although I’ve made a kind of peace with those I loved who are already dead, bronze bells of autumn, in their minor key, toll for the losses still ahead. The weather tells a narrative of change; the wind prepares a path the geese will take. This frost is beautiful, … Continue reading Praying with Fringes 11/3/2013: The Bronze Bells of Autumn