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First Things Poetry (October 1999) Copyright (c) 1999 First Things 96 (October 1999): 24, 41, 55. Sometimes in Autumn An overcast day: gray clouds slide across the sky like platters on a table. The grasses lift up brown tassels from an undercoat of yellow; the grasses have stolen the sun’s yellow. The wind frisks cars as they speed across the bridge. Caution Wind Currents the sign says. In a fury the wind scribbles white caps upon the muddy river, but no one knows what they say. Fall is late this year; burning summer fought dismissal. A single poplar shivers in the wind: its leaves flicker back and forth like small hands waving gold and green to winter. —Mary Freeman The Conservation of Matter The fat man sitting on the edge of his bath may feel a surge of cheerful vanity admiring his calves and vast feet. Enormous things in a trivial world— who appreciates beauty? He sips from bourbon gliding over ice cubes. Logically, we extend ourselves in the world. A handsome symmetry exists between the thoroughness of construction and the likelihood of movement although the volume remains the same despite the size or shape of the container. Still, no dog, no matter where or when he may have acquired his feet, can walk his chains without getting tangled. It is this confusion between magnitude and grace that allows beauty to evade our grasp. —Samn Stockwell Lights Out Wasting light, Mother comments, Seeing high–rise windows lit, Not really objecting, Just commenting on empty, lighted offices, Something that has always seemed Pleasantly sinister to her, As off–hand as she sounds, The start of a mystery. Meanwhile the electric company changes its name again, Wasting the truth, as Mom, Wasting nothing, stays close to it, Seeing as much in what happens When they are not there As when they are, surrounding Her in the day, leaving bright towers At night that tiny immigrant women Scrub and empty, and where Anything might happen Because nothing does. At midnight they used to walk By our house, speaking Cleaning ladies’ Esperanto, And then the lights Went out. —Lawrence Dugan Email this to a friend copyright © 1995-2008 Leadership U. All rights reserved. Updated: 13 July 2002