Day ? of the pandemic.
The fish in the pond are grateful for fresh, clean water, even so.
My puppers was delighted to hang out with the wonderful guys from Allquatics who came to clean our wee pond, in spite of everything.
I woke up in the middle of the night, which meant I got to snuggle up to my Best Beloved and fall asleep twice in one night, even so.
There are some really great noir movies playing on the Turner Movie channel tonight, and I’m going to make a bowl of popcorn and watch them, in spite of everything
I got a grocery delivery, which means milk and eggs and flour and I’m going to bake cookies tomorrow, even so.
And I was reminded, hearing of someone’s death, that this poem matters so much, in spite of everything…
LET EVENING COME
Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.
Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.
Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.
Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.
To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.
Let it come, as it will, and don’t
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.
-Jane Kenyon (from her collection OTHERWISE)