Facebook game...on pg 57 instead (poem by Anne Carson)

XIII. IT IS A MONOPRINT OF DEGAS SHOWING A WOMAN'S HEAD FROM THE BACK CALLED THE JET EARRING

Inside information.
He sought her. He sought her everywhere. Through the nakednesses
of his imagination. In sorrow. In foxholes. As deer flicker way off in a wood in late
winter.

He knew he would destroy the deer.

He sought her in her virginity everywhere in it (fray'd and fled) from top to bottom
of the little looms of the whitish green and the shivering.
He sought her in the ribbon of her missal.
In the faded black smell of its sateen.
In punctuality.

He sought her in the word mistress but she wasn't there, he should
have sheltered in that doorway from the beginning but now
it was night.

He made night seek her too.

Possible night, impossible night, pegs, strings, stringing her to her own
impersonation of
him.

His hand to brush a mark from his face it was her face.

Hesitate,
oh hesitate.

from The Beauty of the Husband

I've lost my mittens

Dessert table, Whippornock Manor, Thanksgiving 2008

Poor little kitten,
She's lost her mittens,
And has a good idea where to find them:
In gracious Virginia,
She's left them somewhere...
She's trying not to cry.

Poor little kitten,
She's lost her red mittens,
And shouldn't be sad that she lost them:
In gracious Virginia,
Remembering being there,
'Cos she had 5 kinds of pie.

Random posting to say sorry I've been away and more postings of a Virginia Homegirl to come later...