September 26

I met Lane Falcon a dear friend and Sarah Lawrence poet at the steps today. Tom Lux once said that Lane Falcon is the perfect name for a poet, and who am I to disagree?

We had a lovely time wandering. Lane touched a sarcophagus and the guard was nice about it. We ended up in the Modern Art section, which was not too busy today, but I still somehow found it hard to write.

We Lift

all these words to you

and still are left

wanting more seeds,

more rosemary, more cadmium.

The garden grows zucchini
into a jungle for squirrels,
and I keep finding dirt clad children

digging for potatoes.

We need squash for soup,

for a winter of prayer, 

of waiting. For others. 

For order? The return of you?

  
Factors
Day of the Week: Sunday
Occupancy of the Museum: Busy
Arrived at: 2:30
Departed at: 4:00
Read on Commute:  Cider House Rules by John Irving, and Made to Stick by Chip and Dan Heath