By Richard Wilbur
One wading a Fall meadow finds on all sides
The Queen Anne’s Lace lying like lilies
On water; it glides
So from the walker, it turns
Dry grass to a lake, as the slightest shade of you
Valleys my mind in fabulous blue Lucernes.
The beautiful changes as a forest is changed
By a chameleon’s tuning his skin to it;
As a mantis, arranged
On a green leaf, grows
Into it, makes the leaf leafier, and proves
Any greenness is deeper than anyone knows.
Your hands hold roses always in a way that says
They are not only yours; the beautiful changes
In such kind ways,
Wishing ever to sunder
Things and things’ selves for a second finding, to lose
For a moment all that it touches back to wonder.
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Our building got power-washed on Thursday, meaning we had lots of noise, lots of gunk falling from the eaves and roof some of which is still on our deck and porch, and cats hiding miserably under the bed because why would anyone do that except to upset them? So it was a noisy but nice day, good weather, lovely afternoon at the beach.
I watched the Mariners game without sound during my Thursday night chat group, which is just as well because it was another atrocious game. Afterward we watched the season premiere of Ghosts (cute, unprofound), and now we're watching the first few episodes of the new season of The Diplomat (superlative, such a great cast). Fall at Green Lake:
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