yes   the days are growing (irony) shorter

   by late afternoon

      i feel a sense of ending   rather than continuing

i did not walk this afternoon

   it was raining

      a welcome rain   this is not a complaint

i read a bit   reading a remarkably quiet book

   and ate a bit   

      and   yes   watched a bit

~

i walked this morning   gray and cold   but

   not as cold as it will be

i walked among trees at the presidio   

   up and down hills

      crossed a grassy dry creek

came upon a rock i will call toad rock

   for it resembles a toad   a puddle of a toad

~

apartment-bound   this afternoon   marketa 

   and i live side by side

       or side by each   whichever you prefer   

together in our abode we abide

   quietly   she reads   she is in another world

~

i write long letters   i mean emails   to friends

   to feel connected

      to stay connected   almost the same thing

they are not one and the same

   i write   in part   to assuage loneliness

      and   always   to celebrate friendship

~

in one of the letters i quoted two lines

   by the poet Ngoc Nguyen

      his recapitulation of hamlet's soliloquy   

   None can say for sure if the sleep of death
   is gentler than life: so cherish every breath.

haunting lines   lines which haunt   me 

   makes me shudder

~ 

la la la

~

i recently read the late louise glück's wild iris poems

   not understanding what i was reading   

they were   to me   as optical illusions

   which shift   which change

      depending on point of view   or focus   or illusion

seeing them one way

   then   suddenly   instantly   seeing them another

after the shift i read with comprehension

   which is so often 

      impossible with poetry   so often it is a guessing-game

~

aside

novels contain too many words 

   still   i intend to read the magic mountain

      some poems contain quite a few words as well   

paradise lost    a great battle of wills and intellect occurs

                               something is regained   later

                                    first it must be lost

 the iliad    nothing happens for a long time

                       for ten years nothing happens

                             then something happens

the odyssey    a man loses his way

                               has many interesting adventures

                                      returns home to find quite the little mess 

~

which reminds me of my father who traveled for work

~

work is under-appreciated   we are a task oriented species

   foodclothingshelter

      is not enough   we must pursue the elusive

~

the remarkably quiet book is remarkable to me

   it comes at the right moment   

       each book to each reader at the right moment

sometimes no book is the best book

   better to look up   see the rain pit-a-patting

      on the window   

look out the window   look below   

   umbrellas and hats

      and shoes getting wet   

and glistening streets   and cars passing by

   look out at the buildings

       across the way   imagine

look up

   overcast

      imagine the sun and blue sky and happy little clouds

and and and

~

i did not walk this afternoon

   instead   

      i let my mind do the wandering