Thursday, November 28, 2019

Thanksgiving and a poem

Mimi, Tim and Eleanor are here for Thanksgiving. John Anderson, a friend since college came up from New Haven for dinner. Great food and Great company. What a joy!

Also, I came across this poem I wrote over 16 years ago.

Walking out of Shadows

This poem has three things
(four really...)
a back porch, badly lit,
a deck in shadows,
and a Puli dog.
(The fourth thing comes at the end.)

My back porch is small.
4 by 6 or so,
and the light bulb,
surrounded by opaque plate,
is 40 watts at best.

The deck is largerer--12 by 20, mabe,
and gets little illumination from the porch light.

The Puli is black as black can be.
So black there are highlights
of more blue and brown in his coat
in direct sunlight.

But at night, when the dog walks on the deck,
I cannot see him for the shadows
and he emerges suddenly
from darkness into light.

Now the fourth thing--the crux of the matter--
how much is that like you and me, all of us,
in the most profound and deepest way,
wandering mostly in places we cannot be seen,
emerging sprisingly,
into some dim light?
Only some of our hearts and souls
are visible at all.



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About Me

some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.