By Ted Kooser
Now the seasons are closing their files
on each of us, the heavy drawers
full of certificates rolling back
into the tree trunks, a few old papers
flocking away. Someone we loved
has fallen from our thoughts,
making a little, glittering splash
like a bicycle pushed by a breeze.
Otherwise, not much has happened;
we fell in love again, finding
that one red feather on the wind.
My Tuesday was pretty quiet apart from two Zoom/Google Meet calls -- the first in the late afternoon with my father's side of the family, including most of the west coast cousins and their kids, and the second in the evening, with my Voyager fan friends around watching season two premiere "The 37s" (still one of my favorites, which neither time nor bad behavior by any actor has ruined).
It was a lovely chilly clear day for a walk. The news came in steadily and stressfully -- I am irate about so many things, it's hard for me to filter out which of those are worth expending my anger on. We watched the first episode of the Canadian Indigenous show Trickster, which is interesting so far, and the sixth of Sanditon, a bit unfocused. Beira at Green Spring Gardens: