By Alfred Corn
Pilot at the helm of a hidden
headland it steers free
from convergence with the freighter
when fog and storm clouds gather
Sparking communiqué no full stop ends
its broadcast performed in a three-sixty sweep
the cycle burning up five solar seconds
Midnight eye that blinks away
invisibility a high beam
revealing as it scans whatever seas
or ships return terra firma's landmark gaze
This was the poem of the day yesterday from the Academy of American Poets. Corn's 2008 book was Contradictions.
Adam got onto the cross country team! He said that nearly everyone at the trials did, so I guess people figured out at the practices whether they were likely to do so. That was where he spent the morning, which Daniel spent talking online to people from college (he and his roommate agreed that he will bring the TV/DVD combo if roommate brings the refrigerator and window fan). I spent it doing the things I didn't do yesterday while I was at the county fair. Not that I am complaining, because I got to see:
Piggies sleeping piled on top of each other!
A llama and alpacas!
A calf born at the fair!
And champion sheep!
Adam had art class in the late afternoon and we planned to pick him up from there to go see Jennifer Cutting and Ocean giving a concert. But I dropped him off in the pouring rain, and the thunder and lightning continued over the next two hours. We brought our picnic stuff when we picked son up, but by then there was a flash flood watch, and the Virginia park canceled the concert while we were driving. Woe. So we ate the picnic at our kitchen table, watched a bit of football and Futurama, and had a relatively quiet evening.