Maybe the point at
this stage of my life is not
to read (Augustine)

but to be. To be
aroused from the sleep of death’s
consolation, hap-

py though it makes me
on these cold New England nights.
The landlord’s black cat

purrs in the darkness.
I must have left the door a-
jar. The edge of night

opens beyond the
end. More intimate than I
am to myself, this

disembodied sound
from the depths of my reading
chair and your cat brain.

Author: Tom D'Evelyn

Tom D'Evelyn is a private editor and writing tutor in Cranston RI and, thanks to the web, across the US and in the UK. He can be reached at D'Evelyn has a PhD in Comparative Literature from UC Berkeley. Before retiring he held positions at The Christian Science Monitor, Harvard University Press, Boston University and Brown University. He ran a literary agency for ten years, publishing books by Leonard Nathan and Arthur Quinn, among others. Before moving to Portland OR he was managing editor at Single Island Press, Portsmouth NH. He blogs at and other sites.

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