Thursday, January 22, 2009
Poem by Linda Pastan
The Almanac of Last Things
From the almanac of last things
I choose the spider lily
for the grace of its brief
blossom, though I myself
fear brevity,
but I choose The Song of Songs
because the flesh
of those pomegranates
has survived
all the frost of dogma.
I choose January with its chill
I choose January with its chill
lessons of patience and despair--and
August, too sun-struck for lessons.
I choose a thimbleful of red wine
to make my heart race,
then another to help me sleep.
From the almanac
of last things I choose you,
as I have done before.
And I choose evening
because the light clinging
to the window
is at its most reflective
just as it is ready
to go out.
Linda Pastan
(Carnival Evening: New and Selected Poems 1968-1998)
Linda Pastan
(Carnival Evening: New and Selected Poems 1968-1998)
(photo by Susan Voison)
(Note: The spacing on this poem is incorrect--my computer seems to have a mind of its own and doesn't want to take orders from me. But the images are indeed sublime. Linda Pastan is one of our most gifted poets.)
