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Friday, October 30, 2015

Poem Written on the Back Porch in Late October

The clarity 
Of the last two
Crickets chirping on
An October evening
Just before the first frost
Can be heard with something
Much less pure than
The mind of winter

Surely the sadness
Is completely imagined
But not so the beauty 
Of the duet which is
Palpable in its vibration
In the way it stirs up
  And still fills up
The melody of 
The night

Nothing is too small not to be wondered about -- that is the name of a fine Mary Oliver poem that my friend Genie had posted to Facebook a short while ago.  And after reading the Oliver poem online I went outside and sat on the back porch in the twilight and was treated to a serenade by the last two crickets of the season.  So very much with Mary Oliverin my mind, it was just us crickets chirping.

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