Remembrance of Things Past

Stealing a line from Proust to introduce an old poem of my own from a springtime long ago.

The Ensnaring Glances of Men

Their faces line the fence posts with
Their brown beards waving in the wind and
Laughing eyes that call me from the road
(And singing, singing...)

The heads that laughed on London Bridge and
Grinned on pikes from ear to ear
Could not have touched me more.
(Oh, good Christ, they sing! Their voices!) Read more about Remembrance of Things Past


American Names

While quoting last week from a novel by Toni Morrison, I was reminded of this poem. An old favorite of mine. You must forgive - even, I think, accept - the occasional use of language we don't like to use today. Benet died in the year that I was born, not quite a month later actually. No wonder I feel a connection. Read more about American Names


For Jim Lovell

I didn't know my friend Hall's father, Jim Lovell, as well as I might have liked to. I know that he liked birding - we went together, he and I and Hall and his wife, Hall's mother, she in a wheelchair. She counted off more birds than any one of us. The too few times I visited Pete and Hall on my own, Jim would take us all out to dinner. He was a nice man. He was a learned man. He was an English professor, in his working days, and we might have had some delightful conversations had time and chance allowed. But not too long ago, time ran out. Read more about For Jim Lovell