Source: wsj.com – Owls sit in a hollow nest in Patan, Nepal. (Narendra Shrestha)
Even through curtains,
the sun will assert itself enough to soften a candle,
its warmth insistent as a kiss till the candle bends back.
We all fall under the spell of the sun
and are all at the end bent and consumed.
See how a long row of fence posts
leans over a deeply cut road
as if they’d been pushed by the light.
~ Ted Kooser, November. The Wheeling Year: A Poet’s Field Book
The odd little magpie of the mind.
Nothing is finally finished, then?
The past emerges and re-emerges.
It builds its random nest in the oddest places.
~ Colum McCann, Thirteen Ways of Looking
I believe that when
the last ding-dong of doom has clanged and faded
from the last worthless rock hanging tideless
in the last red and dying evening,
that even then there will still be one more sound:
that of [man’s] puny inexhaustible voice,
~ William Faulkner, Banquet Speech at the Nobel Banquet at the City Hall in Stockholm, (12/10/50)
Oh, the coming-out-of-nowhere moment
maybe half a moment
the rush of traffic stops.
The whir of I should be, I should be, I should be
slows to silence,
the white cotton curtains hanging still.
~ Marie Howe, The Moment