April 27 improbable play

Sometimes joy after grief awakens slowly, filled with stillness and soft footsteps.  Sometimes joy after grief runs so hard it messes your hair and makes you giddy.  Today’s poem is that 2nd kind of joy.  Whenever I hear what William Carlos Williams pulled out of his magic poet’s bag, I cannot help repeating it.   Exams on our McNichols Campus are wrapping up,  buds are opening all around.

Have a blest week.

 

john sj

Today’s Post:     The Manoeuvre

I saw the two starlings
coming in toward the wires
But at the last,
just before alighting, they

turned in the air together
and landed backwards!
that’s what got me —
to face into the wind’s teeth.

William Carlos Williams

September 17, 1883 – March 4, 1963
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Carlos_Williams

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