Friday, June 7, 2002

A busy night; J. over. Ballgame at 7; the skies had cleared but it was chill and very damp. J. enjoyed the game very much, though: found a dozen or so abandoned tennis balls. Also had brought his bubbles and blew them in the dugout, which I'm sure the young men appreciated. Home after 9. Much news this morning; a verdict (guilty) in the Skakel trial; a Phillipine missionary killed during his rescue; homeland security to be a Cabinet level position; Utah dad collapses under kidnap strain. At work, we celebrate the 50th birthday of a co-worker and the retirement of another.

Beautifully Classic
Geodes by Jared Carter

They are useless, there is nothing
To be done with them, no reason, only

The finding: letting myself down holding
The ironwood and the dry bristle of roots

Into the creekbed, into clear water shelved
Below the outcroppings, where crawdads spurt

Through silt; clawing them out of clay, scrubbing
Away the sand, setting them in a shaft of light

To dry. Sweat clings in the cliff's downdraft.
I take each one up like a safecracker listening

For the lapse within, the moment crystal turns
On crystal. It is all waiting there in darkness.

I want to know only that things gather themselves
With great patience, that they do this forever.

Copyright © 1981 by Jared Carter. All rights reserved. Cleveland State Univ Poetry Center; (October 1995). Order it at click here.

Might be my favorite poem--I love both WHAT it says, and how it is said. "It is all waiting there in darkness"--always reminds me of "now we see through a glass, darkly." Should it, I wonder?

"I want to know only that things gather themselves / With great patience, that they do this forever." Jared Carter

Read an interview with Jared Carter at:

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