And, as a gift to you readers this morning, and a reminder that my life is not summed up by that dismal letter I've been sharing with you all from 1993 — they can break my body but not my soul — a poem about autumn for you.
October's sharp enameled sky,September's latest rose beside me,Recidivism of May in a jug Too common for its rarity:
And IHere, now, Ambered in my time With less inkling of releaseFrom its wounded turning,
Than these urgent skies,This defiance of red petals,This evanescent, final, scent.
