Thursday, September 23, 2010

A Poem:

I have had this poem on my refrigerator for years.
I guess it "speaks" to me...

In The Evening
by Billy Collins


The heads of the roses begin to droop,
The bee who has been hauling his gold
all day finds a hexagon in which to rest.

In the sky, traces of clouds,last few darting birds,
watercolors on the horizon.

The white cat sits facing a wall.

The horse in the field is asleep on its feet.

I light a candle on the wood table.
I take another sip of wine.
I pick up an onion and a knife.
And the past and the future?
Nothing but an only child with two different masks.


More on Mr. Collins, tomorrow.

3 comments:

Gillian said...

Those are really nice pictures, especially that precious one of little Jack!

twebsterarmstrong said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
twebsterarmstrong said...

Jackie is gaining weight! I am feeding him frequently through the day. Away from Bookie. Far, far away from him...

I tried to sneak up on dozing Socksie, but he woke up. So I took a picture of the pastoral grazing grounds instead.

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