Tuesday, February 03, 2009

Brigham came home and told me that John Updike had died. It felt strange to think that he was no longer a part of the world that he described so well. He wrote a book of poems called "A Child's Calendar," one poem per month. When I learned of its existence I bought it sight unseen. I have not regretted it. Here is my favorite.

November

The stripped and shapely
Maple grieves
The loss of her
Departed leaves.

The ground is hard,
As hard as stone.
The year is old,
The birds are flown.

And yet the world,
Nevertheless,
Displays a certain
Loveliness--

The beauty of
The bone. Tall God
Must see our souls
This way, and nod.

Give thanks: we do,
Each in his place
Around the table
During grace.

5 comments:

Sarah said...

I really like that poem. I'll have to check that book out. I'm sure I'd love it!

I love those pictures of Andrew and Will puddle jumping. It's hard to believe Will is old enough now to have opinions and preferences. It's been almost a year since I've seen him, I guess! Wierd. I'm also really looking forward to seeing you guys this summer. It's going to be a lot of fun!

Monica Merced Rich said...

I thought about you that whole day, the day he died. I always associate you with Updike. The world really lost a treasure.

Ashley said...

That is beautiful.

Eliza said...

That is a very sweet poem. Apparently I need to read more John Updike.

Ie Li said...

Beautiful. Gratitude in winter.