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« The Rienzi Hotel [by Mitch Sisskind] | Main | Melissa Studdard: Pick of the Week [ed. Terence Winch] »

April 28, 2023

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So very good. Well written and easy to identify with.

Bittersweet elegy for the olde days Mr. Wadsworth. One could well distill that experience, as you do, to the melting of an intricate snowflake, neither more nor less.

Your sonnet leads back to another song, which led back to another song, which led back to another song.

To the Virgins, to Make Much of Time
by Robert Herrick 1625

Gather ye rose-buds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.

The glorious lamp of heaven, the sun,
The higher he’s a-getting,
The sooner will his race be run,
And nearer he’s to setting.

That age is best which is the first,
When youth and blood are warmer;
But being spent, the worse, and worst
Times still succeed the former.

Then be not coy, but use your time,
And while ye may, go marry;
For having lost but once your prime,
You may forever tarry.

A beautiful lyric that mingles the 1960s and the 60s in one's own life (not necessarily spent in the East 60s). A refutation, too, of "don't look back" as an injunction.

I love Herrick's poem categorically and find myself in total agreement with Walter Carey.

Many thanks to Pris Campbell, Kyril Calsoyas, and Walter Carey! And of course to the extraordinary David L.

Bill and David, I missed you two in the glory Sixties but caught up in our sixties (and seventies), and revisit you in my Municipal Gallery, "Where my friends’ portraits hang and look thereon."

This sonnet took me back to all the mixed emotions of the 60's and the moments of peace I had contemplating pastoral scenes to offset the chaotic news. The last two lines evoked my mood at that time.

Thank you for the great comments, Monica and Alan!

Thanks so much, Monica and Alan!

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That Ship Has Sailed
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"Lively and affectionate" Publishers Weekly

Radio

I left it
on when I
left the house
for the pleasure
of coming back
ten hours later
to the greatness
of Teddy Wilson
"After You've Gone"
on the piano
in the corner
of the bedroom
as I enter
in the dark


from New and Selected Poems by David Lehman

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