If you’ve had trouble commenting on the blog, whether being asked to register and login or getting a message that comments are closed, I think the problem is fixed now. Please let us know if you have any further technical difficulties when accessing the site. Thanks!
posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments
April 5, 1974
by Richard Wilbur
The air was soft, the ground still cold.
In the dull pasture where I strolled
Was something I could not believe.
Dead grass appeared to slide and heave,
Though still too frozen-flat to stir,
And rocks to twitch, and all to blur.
What was this rippling of the land?
Was matter getting out of hand
And making free with natural law?
I stopped and blinked, and then I saw
A fact as eerie as a dream,
There was a subtle flood of steam
Moving upon the face of things.
It came from standing pools and springs
And what of snow was still around;
It came of winter’s giving round
So that the freeze was coming out,
As when a set mind, blesed by doubt,
Relaxes into mother-wit.
Flowers, I said, will come of it.
"If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome."
-Anne Bradstreet
| M | T | W | T | F | S | S |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| « Mar | May » | |||||
| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | ||
| 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 |
| 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 |
| 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |
| 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | |||