Poem for Wednesday and Meadowlark Gardens

The Old Year
By John Clare

The Old Year's gone away
     To nothingness and night:
We cannot find him all the day
     Nor hear him in the night:
He left no footstep, mark or place
     In either shade or sun:
The last year he'd a neighbour's face,
     In this he's known by none.

All nothing everywhere:
     Mists we on mornings see
Have more of substance when they're here
     And more of form than he.
He was a friend by every fire,
     In every cot and hall--
A guest to every heart's desire,
     And now he's nought at all.

Old papers thrown away,
     Old garments cast aside,
The talk of yesterday,
     Are things identified;
But time once torn away
     No voices can recall:
The eve of New Year's Day
     Left the Old Year lost to all.

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It has been a long day around here. Adam's good friend Thomas's father, who lives in the cul-de-sac across from ours, died during the night -- he had previously had cancer, so his kids knew he had health issues, but the cancer was in remission and he died of an infection after initially being sent home from the hospital. Adam was at school when I heard, and I intended to tell him when he got home, but because of Facebook and mobile phones, news travels faster than parental good intentions. So he left school after lunch and went to see Thomas, who was hiding out with a couple of other friends and his girlfriend's mother while his own mother was out dealing with the arrangements.

I rushed through what work I had to get done and went over to see the kids, who were eating McDonalds and seemed to be in shock. Adam came home while Thomas was taking a nap and I took him to tennis, which gave me an excuse to walk in the park, where the creek is so low that it can hardly be seen around some curves. After dinner we watched Glee, which had plenty of idiocy but great music -- I grew up in the disco era, Saturday Night Fever is one of my favorite soundtracks -- then while son was on the phone catching up on homework the rest of us watched what will probably be the series finale of Ringer, which is sad because the show has finally grown into the emotional ramifications of its premise and wrapped up well.

Some more Meadowlark Gardens photos from the weekend including several turtles: