The cricket has moved
indoors. Returning at night
I’m greeted by a
sharp ‘carpe diem.’
But the days are giving way.
Tomorrow offers
one more chance just to
be. I don’t need to know why
this or why that. I
will touch the altar
of day with empty hands, such
poverty enough.
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 tom.develyn@comcast.net. 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 http://tdevelyn.com and other sites.
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This one is exquisite. A perfect unity of head and heart. It is Keats’ “To Autumn” in another idiom, just as that cricket is the descendant of his. Wonderful.
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Thanks, Richard. I seem not to see the comments. So glad I didn’t miss this one!
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