by phillipw | Apr 2, 2020 | DI, PI, ST
Annie Dillard Will Be 72 Tomorrow For Chuck This Sunday Annie Dillard, that clear mind And mystic, will be twelve and three score years. She saw, she saw, and wrote about when blind Eyes saw as if the music of the spheres Became as visible to them as we See blue and...
by phillipw | Mar 21, 2020 | CH, ST
He Actually Had a Beautiful, Twirly Handlebar Moustache The picture printed on his funeral sheet Is almost nothing like the man. He wears A coat and tie. They make him look as neat As some square ’50s guy who never swears And never even smokes tobacco, much Less...
by phillipw | Mar 10, 2020 | CH, ST
Above, the Ruthlessness, Below Churned up Shenandoah My friend has travelled to another sphere, A universe as unified as God In green Jehovah’s Witness Bibles. Fear Is absent there, but so is love, that odd Thing in the cosmos. I am left behind Like young Elisha on...
by phillipw | Mar 10, 2020 | CH, ST
The Day that Never Came My Charles is not here. The wind moves through The sun-struck wheat, but Charles is not there. The early springtime trees beneath the blue Skies Windsor offers hold out their still bare Tree limbs. I often daydreamed I would show These...
by phillipw | Mar 4, 2020 | CH, ST
Fading Phase, Moon Skeleton You now have been diminished too much less Than ghost or bone. You float up in the sky Of evening, there more like a moveless tress Of skeleton, a haint in twilight, dry Among the evening stars. A fragment of The lunar sphere, a little...
by phillipw | Mar 3, 2020 | SA, ST
Chopin, Played in the Oldest Church within the Walls of Ancient Paris How sad to think of those who lived before Romantic music, those who never knew Strained longing, melodies that seem to pour Unendingly, that seem to yearn out through Eternity, stretched out,...
