Friday, September 28, 2018
I have known hours of such varying intensity this week ... lovely hours, wrenching hours, calm hours, hours of laughter, anxious hours. Hazel Hall knows.
I have known hours built like cities,
House on grey house, with streets between
That lead to straggling roads and trail off,
Forgotten in a field of green;
Hours made like mountains lifting
White crests out of the fog and rain,
And woven of forbidden music—
Hours eternal in their pain.
Life is a tapestry of hours
Forever mellowing in tone,
Where all things blend, even the longing
For hours I have never known.
(Found here, on Poets.org.)
Jone Rush MacCulloch has the roundup today.