~twilight~

~Blossomtime in grayscale~

~~~~~

The remnants of Ida are rambling through the lowcountry tonight - bringing with it some much appreciated rain and warm winds.  The oh-so delicate Pointer Sisters are refusing to go outside - I suppose that Annabelle Lee has a reasonable excuse, especially after her three hour escape through the fence this morning into the woods and marshes that border my neighborhood - and I suppose that the Dan's excuse is that she is still pouting that she didn't manage to escape herself.  Honestly, sometimes it feels like keeping the Pointer Sisters in line is a full-time job.

~~~~~

As for me, I'm relieved that Annabelle Lee is safe at home, and I'm glad that a grant got submitted successfully yesterday.  It was rather large collaborative effort, one that was officially submitted at two minutes prior to the 8 pm deadline, only to have an error message come back - followed by another submission at two minutes after the deadline.  Today it appears that the proposal was accepted, so there has been a collective sigh of relief.  Proposal submissions such as this redefine what 'last minute' means, especially since at 10 minutes until 8 pm I decided to edit one of the required submission documents - and I was given 5 minutes by the university's grants office to do so.  Yeah, nuts - I know.

~~~~~

With Katherine not physically present in the laboratory during this challenging wartime period, the flow of poetry into our routine science days has lessened - so tonight I was happy to receive an email from her regarding a poetry reading this Friday evening that is part of The Poetry Society of South Carolina's Monthly Programs.  Once again she introduced a new poet (a musician poet in fact) to me, Doug Van Gundy, who resides in West Virginia and teaches at West Virginia Wesleyan.  I think I will try and attend his reading Friday evening - and hopefully he will read the poem below, a poem which includes a line about that time in the evening when the dog is unable to find her ball in the grass near oaks - a time that Annabelle Lee and I are quite familiar with.

~~~~~

The Back Yard by Twilight by Doug Van Gundy

These are the hours I love the best:
when the golden light of summer has climbed
to the top of the abandoned building next door

and all of the neighborhood
cats have slinked from inside
the woodpile beneath the back porch

and the cicadas and katydids
and grey tree frogs begin advertising
in the cacophonous personals section of the woodlot

and the dog can no longer
find his ball in the tall grass
at the edge of the darkening oaks

and citronella wafts across the crabgrass and mingles
with the lingering smell from the deep fryer
at the diner at the bottom of the hill

and the air grows heavy and moist
and the sound of the traffic on the
four-lane takes on a veiled quality

and the blue-white of the sun
is reflected in a satellite’s
long aching arc across the sky

and the windows open
and the box fan comes on

and the neighbor’s coon hound catches
the scent of something toothy & wild
and sounds his dutiful alarm

and the faint bruised smell of a skunk comes on
with the throw of the same switch
that turns on all of the fireflies

and the early windfall apples
fall without any wind at all.

 

(you can listen to Gundy read this poem here)

[This poem first appeared in Ecotone, Volume 3, Number 2, 2008]   

Comments

[Susan Tomlinson]

Very nice poem. Describes that time of day exactly, especially the a"aching arch" of the satellite across the sky.

Good luck on the grant proposal. I'll keep my fingers crossed for you.