Saturday, October 8, 2016


Asters and Caladium
(behind bars)

Indian Summer
by Sarah Teasdale

Lyric night of the lingering Indian summer,
Shadowy fields that are scentless but full of singing,
Never a bird, but the passionless chant of insects,
Ceaseless, insistent.

The grasshopper's horn, and far off, high in the maples
The wheel of a locust slowly grinding the silence,
Under a moon waning and warn and broken,
Tired with summer.

Let me remember you, voices of little insects,
Weeds in the moonlight, fields that are tangled with asters,
Let me remember you, soon the winter will be on us,
Snow-hushed and heartless.

Over my soul murmur your mute benediction
While I gaze, oh fields that rest after harvest,
As those who part look long in the eyes they lean to,
Lest they forget them.


Red Roses in the Christie Garden
(what remains is a thin strip along Houston Street, NYC)
A meeting place with Conch
(Years ago this garden was twice the size)
Books on a Ladder in my Home
(Berger-Fast-Simon & Gore Vidal)
Danspace Project at St. Marks Church, NY NY
("Brotherhood Dance" Orlando Zane Hunter & Ricardo Valentine)
Sensei Koshin Paley Ellison had a Birthday
with Chocolate Cake!
(New york Zen Center for Contemplative Care, NYC)
Memory of Massachusetts
(found while organizing a box of photographs)
Memory from my NYC Neighborhood
(Amber Sherbet October 1988)
Reconnected With Dylan Guy via Face Book
(Her painting of 'Water Lilies" hangs in my home)


Nancy Erisman sent this Gift from California
(Sunflower Button)
 My Florida Friend, Nayra sent Words to entertain me
(a print Book and three Audio books)
A Card I love rose up from another box I'm Sorting through
(from Melissa LatourJuly 2007)
Friday I visited The Museum of The City for the opening of "Gay Gotham", and although my friend didn't show up, I had time to see the whole thing on a lovely Indian Summer day
Many more Photographs in the next post...


Mo Crow said...

interesting books... Gore Vidal?

Ms. said...

yes Mo, Gore Vidal...prolific, often brilliant and one of the most important writers of our times...Sis you know he was also a Humanist. I could spend the rest of my live and not make a dent in what I still want to read especially the non fiction:

Nancy said...

Such a rich and beautiful life it is my friend!