By Jill Bialosky
I am glad today is dark. No sun. Sky
ribboning with amorphous, complicated
layers. I prefer cumulus on my
morning beach run. What more can we worry
about? Our parents are getting older
and money is running out. The children
are leaving, the new roof is damaged by
rain and rot. I fear the thrashing of the sea
in its unrest, the unforgiving cricket.
But that’s not it. The current is rising.
The dramas are playing out. Perhaps
it’s better to be among these sandpipers
with quick feet dashing out of the surf than
a person who wishes to feel complete.
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Part of a sonnet sequence called "American Comedy," inspired by a summer in a beach town, Bialosky tells Poets.org in Thursday's Poem-a-Day column, "about the absurdities and realities of modern domestic life."
I have nothing exciting to report from Thursday besides seeing a rainbow after several hours of rain. Plus Gracepoint did something tonight that made me hopeful they aren't going to screw up something I thought was good from Broadchurch, and Elementary had Sonia Walger and Lucy Liu snapping at each other.
Now I am having a dispute with my laptop about how unnecessary it is for it to crash every time a web site unexpectedly wants to run Flash, so here are some photos of animals from Mount Vernon a couple of months ago, some permanent residents, some visiting for the Colonial Fair, one modeling with a model of George Washington:
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