WORK IN PROGRESS
“The idiotic singular is the loved child of time at play.” William Desmond, GOD AND THE BETWEEN,237.
Napping after a
long walk in the Sierra,
my thin body on
the granite, I woke
to the glitter in the stone
as the sun went down.
Just in time. Boyhood
experience of the gift
of being in time.
For no good reason,
I made it back to the camp
in plenty of time.
Now old, I sit on
a rock, watching the light play
in time with the waves.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
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.
View all posts by Tom D'Evelyn
Metaxyturn Diaries 