#19 decembrance 2018

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We walked tonight when it was almost fully dark. Our route took us up along the stream that feeds the pond to inspect the beaver dams and chewed branches. The moon kept us company on our path through the bare limbs. When we fired the last kiln I had dreams of stoking the back ports with wood collected from the beaver dams, perfectly gnawed and stripped of leaves and side branches. I made a few small piles, but then we decided not to stoke the back ports and my piles sit by the stream edge without remorse or excuse.

19 decembrance 2018.jpg
Consider the half-moon,
How it gains as it is falling;

How it finds its true fulfillment,
Yet remains to be fulfilled;

How it knows its own path,
And will rise through the night
With a cold eye
Having no fear, no pity--

Half-moon, might you rise

From the darkness of my fingertips
As you rise in the sky,

Without remorse, without excuse.

--Charles Wright, Half-Moon.

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This page contains a single entry by Catherine White published on December 19, 2018 8:57 PM.

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