Encounter

All night I watched the dim clouds gather and thicken as damp chill entered the air. There is a good chance that I will waken to the sound of raindrops today. If so, the rain will have washed away the hoof prints of the deer I startled when I went out to fetch the newspaper. As I neared the driveway, I turned on my flashlight to see where the paper had landed, and then I heard the clatter of hooves, and turned the light to see the retreating stag who had leapt from flower bed to street at the light's intrusion. I saw no other deer. The stag paused on reaching the far side of the road, looked back at me for a moment, then slowly proceeded south toward the apple orchard. I listened to his steps fade, but kept the light off. There is a particular sound to steps on a chill, damp night: close, yet opening limitless distance through shards of broken silence. I returned indoors, newly aware of the vast world of night.

Sunday Verse

(Too short to cut.)

The Yellow Chimney

William Carlos Williams


There is a plume
of fleshpale
smoke upon the blue

sky. The silver
rings that
strap the yellow

brick stack at
wide intervals shine
in this amber

light- not
of the sun not of
the pale sun but

his born brother
the
declining season

Anticlimactic

Not a rainy day, but not a dry day. It was sort of a drainy day. Every now and then, clouds would hide the sun and showers would fall. Then the sun would emerge and make the rainwet leaves and grass sparkle. Chilly breezes belied the brightness, and the air smelled richly of vegetation beginning to decompose. Officially, it is still summer, but the sun today was like a shrunken balloon. The party is over, everyone is heading home, and the decorations lie scattered and limp in the empty room. I'm going to get some tea and try to shake off this hangover.

I didn't talk like a pirate today because there was nobody around to talk to.