Babi Today I took your Octogenarian brave mother For a row on the pond. She had great trouble Climbing into the boat And was a little afraid. But when we were settled On the gentle water She was calm and talked Of her grandchildren and Their modern world. She reads the books She sees them read And listens to their music And comprehends their Meta-art and thinks It is all complex and fine. That it is like hearing the announcement Of the birth of the world. Elisabeth You see no ill where no ill seems And laugh as if no serpent hated us And no one here has sinned. As if one heart still beat the world And we pass clear mornings Naming new creatures as we tend the fruit. I feel your goodness like the sun Transforming one belonging to a darker place Into a sunlit creature. Late August Now another summer ends Although we pulled the weeds that move the clocks And dug deeply to enrich the soil So that the days did not leech through it. Some days in the broad sail of The Beagle We felt the summer wind and had The sense of gaining on the tide of time She was heading high and we were safe from endings. But now the budding turtleheads announce Those woods beyond the pond hold Autumn and We wait for the northeast wind to drive Lenin With his Red Sox Cap back into the basement More than many summers ended here Despite our hands deep in the soil Our eyes steady on the mainsheet Now from the soil and the tide and wind Comes the notion there will be a last. A last. Main Page This site sponsered by