Brightest of stars!
O Hesperus, bringing everything
the bright dawn scatters
you bring the sheep
you bring the goat
you bring the child back to its mother...
Sappho
The spanning glass, as lovely as it was,
was made to ward off weather from which love
Had fled —much as before “unholy wind”—
Even the fastest girls are left behind
When we pass on the star-laden baton.
One day, we hope to find some extra space
For our ensemble here of all the wild
Notions we have up to now entertained.
Whenever that transpires—it can’t be yesterday...
I’m hoping it will never get too cold.
I’ve stitched together some illumined maps
Of places you might be eager to see
Were there enough light in all the rest stops
I’m hoping we won’t be —unlike that couple—too persnickety.
While trying to get to the heart—or brain
—of all quotidian amazing things,
And I do so on each and every day
Even without approval from the king...
Today souls of favorite birds on the wing
Are heedless of the feeders I have placed
In strategic locations on my land.
Meanwhile, I’ve got to get back to the strand,
As we are running too low on sea glass.
Our granddaughters need more for necklaces
And bracelets and a ton of other things...
On our walk home we found some half-full kegs,
Thanks to nasal astuteness of the dogs.
Rover has just uncovered burial grounds
Of one tribe that seems not to have a name
—or at least no name one can say aloud....
The translation of Sappho’s Greek by Jim Powell, a friend. Poem is for Phoebe
VIIIXXIV