You are currently browsing the daily archive for October 3, 2012.

Carib Beer is not available in my neck of the woods, so I have to indulge my fondness for it when I’m in the islands. As the leaves are turning, and the winds are blowing cool, and MKL even reported a dash of the “s” word tonight, I’m thinking about golden days on a warm beach.

Cow Wreck Beach, Anegada, British Virgin Islands.

Quote of the day: “I move in the university of the waves.”  —  Pablo Neruda

Daily gratitudes:
Flying flocks of pigeons
An empty I-25
Raspberries
Jim Lehrer
Admiring other women’s shoes while being glad I don’t have to walk in them (literally)

Today’s guest poet: Margaret Atwood

Night Poem

There is nothing to be afraid of,
it is only the wind
changing to the east, it is only
your father the thunder
your mother the rain

In this country of water
with its beige moon damp as a mushroom,
its drowned stumps and long birds
that swim, where the moss grows
on all sides of the trees
and your shadow is not your shadow
but your reflection,

your true parents disappear
when the curtain covers your door.
We are the others,
the ones from under the lake
who stand silently beside your bed
with our heads of darkness.
We have come to cover you
with red wool,
with our tears and distant whispers.

You rock in the rain’s arms
the chilly ark of your sleep,
while we wait, your night
father and mother
with our cold hands and dead flashlight,
knowing we are only
the wavering shadows thrown
by one candle, in this echo
you will hear twenty years later.

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