Monday, November 9, 2009

Trying to squeeze in a tiny post between taking the dog to the groomer and taking a phone call about editorial work. So here's bit more Carruth, and perhaps later I'll get a chance to talk about Henry James again. Or perhaps I will be too overwhelmed by today's parent-teacher conference at the Harmony School and will only be able to mope and/or sigh gustily.

from Gods

Hayden Carruth

Sometimes it occurs to me in the moonlit
stillness of the summer night that Dionysus
will come and take you from me.

I tell you: poets will worry about anything. Clearly, that is one thing we all have in common.

2 comments:

Ruth said...

Hope you survived conferences. Did a poem arrive with this worry? I would submit that poets have their poetry as an outlet for the worries.

Dawn Potter said...

No, I haven't written anything for a few days. I think the writing hysteria may be over. Unfortunate, but now I do have a chance to clean the house.