Even the bowl of
cherries she left in her kitchen
Is worth regard, a
bowl they might have painted
In a rush of sympathy
for objects small and frail,
Insubstantial and
insignificant, or a rush of awe
At how ready the
cherries and the bowl appear
To give themselves to
the light that's left them,
With nothing held in
reserve for a better day.
--Carl Dennis from Birthday
The day spun by cleaning,
arranging, and shifting, bowls, plates, vases and cups as we prepare the gallery. I took a break to walk my dog with a friend's dog. We
circled their pond, the dogs describing big arcs and acrobatic tumbles. As I turned
away from the sunset to return to the house I was surprised by the huge
full moon rising above the tree line. It was as if the moon held nothing in
reserve for a better moment.
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