”The finite let be as finite points back beyond itself again, and in its given inexhaustibility points to the radical excess of the absolute origin, reserved in itself in its light inaccessible.” Desmond, G&B 127
They say loneliness
has no color. I watch light
fade from the water.
Black is a color.
People love chilly Autumn
for bright foliage
and private reasons.
Sparrows call it a day. Trees
whisper sweet nothings.
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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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Metaxyturn Diaries 