A Reminiscence
By Richard O. Moore
For Kenneth Rexroth, 1950
Held in a late season
At a shifting of worlds,
In the golden balance of autumn,
Out of love and reason
We made our peace;
Stood still in October
In the failing light and sought,
Each in the other, ease
And release from silence,
From the slow damnation
Of speech that is weak
And falls from silence.
In the October sun
By the green river we spoke,
Late in October, the leaves
Of the water maples had fallen.
But whatever we said
In the bright leaves was lost,
Quick as the leaf-fall,
Brittle and blood red.
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Friday was even warmer than Thursday, sunny and breezy. Our neighborhood decided to have a back-to-school breakfast, so we got fig bars and pastries, plus the early morning walk to get them, then I had a bunch of chores to do while fighting with my computer which was apparently downloading some horrible update that made it very slow. It was a gorgeous day for walking at the beach, though!
My baseball night was terrible -- the Orioles lost in the 9th, the Mariners were losing all game -- but Billions was fun this week (Chuck's dad should bring down Prince, he destroys everything he touches) and The Wheel of Time had some great Moiraine stuff in among some awful Egwene stuff that reminded me of V For Vendetta and I never mean that in a good way. Shopping at the witches' market:
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