Dean and I thought we had picked all the pears from our tree by mid-September. We store them in the basement refrigerator, so we can take them out one or two at a time, to ripen on the kitchen counter, and eat them all the coming winter and spring long. But today, a rainy windy November day, we found one fallen on the gravel driveway, one that we must have missed, hidden in the branches, its nylon footie still in place, a little gash in its bottom from where it fell, otherwise intact. We cut it open, divided it into quarters on a plate between us before dinner. It's white flesh so sweet, so buttery, so granular, so perfect. Ah -- to find a ripe pear amid the cold and dark of an evening. And to share it. A gift.
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Went to hear Rigo, Rick, and Oliver read at UW tonight. A special presentation by the Ethnic Studies Department. A good reading. The highlights for me: Rigo's three linked sonnets (which he later jokingly referred to as a "tiara" rather than "crown" of sonnets). Rick's "Magnolia," which was a long run-on sentence; and his poem based on a Yoko Ono art video from the 60's (where her clothes are being cut off her body onstage). Oliver's new poems "About the Strawberry" and "Jose the Liar" ("Pants on Fire!" ~grin~) from the stories of Filipino farm workers. Chatted a bit with some UW MFA and Eng Lit students, as well as Jean9 and Jennifer D. Dark and rainy for the ride home. Fall has really fell, eh?
Thursday, November 02, 2006
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1 comment:
Hey Doc,
Thanks for coming to the reading! It was great to finally meet you. And I'll consider the "Pants on Fire" title . . .
*wink*
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