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Showing posts from October, 2021

poem about Apple Picking

  ABOUT APPLE PICKING   one is never wrong. The orchard itself is the correct answer to any question. Climbing is a problem, but gravity solves even that for some. The round truth of an apple is sufficient; being lost here is to be found; it is the end of the quest, best friend to cheese; and can become cider soon enough. The fall to the very ground if it happened, was near this row or that of reaching, autumn themes, the cooling air, a sense of collecting the divine in a modest wicker basket. Science is what finds the good among the bad, the worms, centring on the crisp core's seeds, the ample harvest before the frost, that sweet-bitter-tanging bite, flight into so many delicious names.   October 19, 2021


  POEM FOR CANADIAN THANKSGIVING 2021 for Michael Kovrig An entirely unearned sense of unexpected ease Comes this Sunday, perhaps because of the earlier Raucous post-mask brunch at a table with seven others Debating, rowdily, the British empire, how one manager’s Nursing home saw fifteen deaths in two weeks last year. Over vegan crepes and flat whites, after exercising In the park, amid rain, then sun, as a London October, this Occurs; I am gently teased for publishing conservatives But can any book deserve a bonfire, Even as evil as M. K .? I try to justify the neutral stance Assayed by publishers wanting to take no sides, Yet it feels a poor excuse for indecision, I agree.   I am thankful for much this year even apart from survival, And the lives of my loved ones who survived, I am one of the most fortunate of those not famous, not lean, I can give thanks also for the weather, and my God, who, Whether or not I believe in them, either remains Or w