A.R. Ammons is one of my favortite poets, and lines from his "Giving up Words with Words" always come to my mind near the end of a school year.
Isn't it time to let things be:
I don't pick up the drafts-book,
I ease out of the typewriter room:
bumblebees' wings swirl
free of the fine-spun of words:
the brook blinks
a leaf down-bed, shadow mingling,
tumbling with the leaf,
with no help from me: do things let alone
go to pieces: is rescue written
already into the motions of coherence:
have words all along
imitated work better done undone:
one thinks not ruthlessly to bestir again:
one cases off harsh attentions
to watch the dew dry, the squirrel stand
(white belly prairie-dog erect)
the mayfly cling daylong to the doorscreen
Teaching aside, I think it also speaks to outdoorsy blogger types. Particularly at the onset of trout season. There is a time to let the keyboard be.
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That time hasn't quite come, of course. I'll be back tomorrow with a garden update and photos.
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