Poem for Saturday and Glenstone Art

Grasses
By Alfred Kreymborg

Who
would decry
instruments—
when grasses
ever so fragile,
provide strings
stout enough for
insect moods
to glide up and down
in glissandos
of toes along wires
or finger-tips on zithers—
   though
   the mere sounds
   be theirs, not ours—
   theirs, not ours,
   the first inspiration—
   discord
   without resolution—
who
would cry
being loved,
when even such tinkling
comes of the loving?

-------- 

Friday was a gorgeous fall day, and I spent a bunch of the morning moving around bird feeders and houses in the front yard because my catsitter neighbor was giving away a couple of shepherd's hooks that look very pretty there. I also had to clean up some leaves and by the time I had finished picking them out of my hair, it was lunchtime. We watched The Tomorrow War while we ate and afterward while we worked, since Adam hadn't seen it, and it's still not great but entertaining. 

We took a walk and saw deer. My parents had us over for dinner and Chanukah celebrating -- we brought donuts, they had latkes and real and fake chicken, we all had presents -- then we came home to Skype with Pau's mother for her birthday on a call that eventually included my parents and Daniel. After that, we watched Tenet, which Adam also hadn't seen; I'm still not sure it truly makes sense, but at least it isn't boring! Outdoor art at Glenstone last weekend: