The Little Review (littlereview) wrote,
The Little Review

Poem for Friday and Lewis Ginter Light Zoo

A Spell Before Winter
By Howard Nemerov

After the red leaf and the gold have gone,
Brought down by the wind, then by hammering rain
Bruised and discolored, when October's flame
Goes blue to guttering in the cusp, this land
Sinks deeper into silence, darker into shade.
There is a knowledge in the look of things,
The old hills hunch before the north wind blows.

Now I can see certain simplicities
In the darkening rust and tarnish of the time,
And say over the certain simplicities,
The running water and the standing stone,
The yellow haze of the willow and the black
Smoke of the elm, the silver, silent light
Where suddenly, readying toward nightfall,
The sumac's candelabrum darkly flames.
And I speak to you now with the land's voice,
It is the cold, wild land that says to you
A knowledge glimmers in the sleep of things:
The old hills hunch before the north wind blows.


I was going to take son shopping for sneakers on Thursday, but he stayed up very late working on a project for his new part-time job and then slept till nearly 2 p.m. So instead I took niece to work and did chores around the house and the neighborhood. At 4 p.m. Niantic released a whole bunch of new Pokemon, so I spent the remaining daylight of the shortest day of the year catching them!

When apaulled got home, we went to drop off the van to have its brake pads replaced (an issue discovered when we got the tire replaced), then stopped at the food store for cat food before having veggie brisket for dinner. There was more Doctor Who on BBC America plus The Late Show reran The Daily Show reunion episode. From Lewis Ginter Botanical Gardens, animals:









  • Greetings from the Canal

    It rained early in the morning on Friday and again in the afternoon -- the first thunderstorm of the season, which displeased the kittens so much…

  • Poem for Friday and Canal Thursday

    Letter Beginning with Two Lines by Czesław Miłosz By Matthew Olzmann You whom I could not save, Listen to me. Can we agree Kevlar backpacks…

  • Poem for Thursday and McCrillis Flowers

    A Violin at Dusk By Lizette Woodworth Reese Stumble to silence, all you uneasy things, That pack the day with bluster and with fret. For here…

  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your IP address will be recorded