Dear March—Come in—(1320)
Dear March—Come in—
How glad I am—
I hoped for you before—
Put down your Hat—
You must have walked—
How out of Breath you are—
Dear March, how are you, and the Rest—
Did you leave Nature well—
Oh March, Come right upstairs with me—
I have so much to tell—
I got your Letter, and the Birds—
The Maples never knew
that you were coming—
I declare –
how Red their Faces grew—
But March, forgive me—
And all those Hills
you left for me to Hue—
There was no Purple suitable—
You took it all with you—
Who knocks? That April—
Lock the Door—
I will not be pursued—
He stayed away a Year to call
When I am occupied—
But trifles looked so trivial
As soon as you arrived.
That blame is just as dear as Praise
And Praise as mere as Blame—
A Light Exists In Spring — (85)
A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period —
When March is scarcely here
A Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.
It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to thee.
Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay —
A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament.
Photos from Durham NC
In 2003, Wendy Michener, a mid-life architecture student from Raleigh, joined the Board of Quaker House in Fayetteville NC. Soon she was Clerk of the House & Grounds Committee (there were no other volunteers).
But I had been candid with the Board that– unlike several earlier Directors, who had done many repairs on their own–I was not a “handyman,” DIY type. Some matters could be ignored (and had been for years), but others could not: the roof leaked, and leaked more with each serious rainstorm. Pipes froze and flooded a semi-basement room. Old bricks were loose or crumbling. Et cetera.
And over time we struck up many conversations, which, by the end of 2003 were on the edge of courting.
However, on January 27, the night before the new system cranked up, one last gasp of the bunch of space heaters we had used in the interim set some wires smoldering in the attic.
