A topnotch WordPress.com site

Autumnal Equinox

DSCN8300 edit 22b

The light was incredible today and mostly failed to render. The six hawks I watched soaring were too far above, the weeping willow was already captured but shot anyway, had friends watching our backyard birds, so just enjoyed.

Advertisements

One response

  1. How To Like It

    These are the first days of fall. The wind
    at evening smells of roads still to be traveled,
    while the sound of leaves blowing across the lawns
    is like an unsettled feeling in the blood,
    the desire to get in a car and just keep driving.
    A man and a dog descend their front steps.
    The dog says, Let’s go downtown and get crazy drunk.
    Let’s tip over all the trash cans we can find.
    This is how dogs deal with the prospect of change.
    But in his sense of the season, the man is struck
    by the oppressiveness of his past, how his memories
    which were shifting and fluid have grown more solid
    until it seems he can see remembered faces
    caught up among the dark places in the trees.
    The dog says, Let’s pick up some girls and just
    rip off their clothes. Let’s dig holes everywhere.
    Above his house, the man notices wisps of cloud
    crossing the face of the moon. Like in a movie,
    he says to himself, a movie about a person
    leaving on a journey. He looks down the street
    to the hills outside of town and finds the cut
    where the road heads north. He thinks of driving
    on that road and the dusty smell of the car
    heater, which hasn’t been used since last winter.
    The dog says, Let’s go down to the diner and sniff
    people’s legs. Let’s stuff ourselves on burgers.
    In the man’s mind, the road is empty and dark.
    Pine trees press down to the edge of the shoulder,
    where the eyes of animals, fixed in his headlights,
    shine like small cautions against the night.
    Sometimes a passing truck makes his whole car shake.
    The dog says, Let’s go to sleep. Let’s lie down
    by the fire and put our tails over our noses.
    But the man wants to drive all night, crossing
    one state line after another, and never stop
    until the sun creeps into his rearview mirror.
    Then he’ll pull over and rest awhile before
    starting again, and at dusk he’ll crest a hill
    and there, filling a valley, will be the lights
    of a city entirely new to him.
    But the dog says, Let’s just go back inside.
    Let’s not do anything tonight. So they
    walk back up the sidewalk to the front steps.
    How is it possible to want so many things
    and still want nothing. The man wants to sleep
    and wants to hit his head again and again
    against a wall. Why is it all so difficult?
    But the dog says, Let’s go make a sandwich.
    Let’s make the tallest sandwich anyone’s ever seen.
    And that’s what they do and that’s where the man’s
    wife finds him, staring into the refrigerator
    as if into the place where the answers are kept-
    the ones telling why you get up in the morning
    and how it is possible to sleep at night,
    answers to what comes next and how to like it.

    _Stephen Dobyns

    http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/stephen-dobyns

    September 22, 2014 at 9:59 pm

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s