The Paltry Nude Starts on a Spring Voyage
By Wallace Stevens
But not on a shell, she starts,
Archaic, for the sea.
But on the first-found weed
She scuds the glitters,
Noiselessly, like one more wave.
She too is discontent
And would have purple stuff upon her arms,
Tired of the salty harbors,
Eager for the brine and bellowing
Of the high interiors of the sea.
The wind speeds her on,
Blowing upon her hands
And watery back.
She touches the clouds, where she goes
In the circle of her traverse of the sea.
Yet this is meagre play
In the scrurry and water-shine
As her heels foam ---
Not as when the goldener nude
Of a later day
Will go, like the centre of sea-green pomp,
In an intenser calm,
Scullion of fate,
Across the spick torrent, ceaselessly,
Upon her irretrievable way.
--------
Monday was even warmer than Sunday, and I got to take a walk in the park since we were driving right past it on the way to pick up the car, which needed a tail light repaired but otherwise just had basic maintenance. The rest of my day involved three laundries and several hundred pages of scans of Paul's mother's family ancestry research -- she is descended from some of the oldest immigrant families in Pennsylvania, from the Palatinate and Lancashire in the early 1700s.
We caught up on Superman and Lois (always glad for LGBT storylines but I'm already tired of the teen drama) in time for the new episode tomorrow that we'll have to catch up with later (I'm never off my Voyager call in time, which I don't mind a bit). Then we watched the season premiere of Snowpiercer, which I've been eagerly awaiting since the end of last season though I'm really hoping Jennifer Connelly is back kicking Sean Bean's ass and not only in flashbacks. Boats by the Pentagon:
No comments:
Post a Comment