#gordon gilsdorf

[sapphireshorelines]

Second of September, I ate the last berry of summer, the sun still dreaming it's July twenty-first

also, I love it so here, and have so little relaxed time to saturate myself with the minor pleasures and daily epiphanies of life that I may just stay at the apartment into the middle of september to cook and read at widener and observe the plethora of vivid details of life which I generally have to ignore for the sake of economy of time

when summer turned to ash / from Ventimiglia to Salerno / and nothing else was left / and we were free / to run away, to play dumb or cry / one September night.

Do not faint in September/ or you will wake up in a dead city

I had a terror—since September—I could tell to none, and so I sing, as the Boy does by the Burying Ground—because I am afraid.

Another day; another Friday; another twentieth of March, January, or September. Another general awakening.

•••

Ethan Gilsdorf, The Imprint Of September Second / Joe Brainard, I remember, Three Pansies / Anne Carson, The Glass Essay / Virginia Woolf, A Writer's Diary / Sylvia Plath, letter to Gordon Lameyer / Robert David Cohen, September / Frank W. Benson, Autumn (1895) / Franco Fortini, One September Night / Anne Sexton, The Sermon of the Twelve Acknowledgement / Emily Dickinson, letter to Thomas Wentworth Higginson / Virginia Woolf, The Waves / Jackson Pollock, Autumn Rhythm (Number 30)

#september #web weaving #ethan gilsdorf #the imprint of September second #joe brainard #i remember #three pansies #anne carson #the glass essay #virginia woolf #a writer's diary #syliva plath #sylvia plath letters #autumn #frank benson #robert david cohen #franco fortini #anne sexton #emily dickinson #emily dickinson letters #the waves #jackson pollock #autumn rhythm #parallels #**

[apoemaday]

Spring Thaw

by Gordon Gilsdorf

Most things die reluctantly, clinging to the life they know, like snow trying to hold the land far beyond the middle of March. How can it know that April will not have violets without warm rains and that surrender is the only way to inherit the earth?

#poetry #gordon gilsdorf #spring thaw