Thursday, September 8, 2011

"Let's go for a walk, Auguste"

.. We go hungry
amid the giant granaries
this world is ..
Like Keats listening to the doctor
who said the best thing 
for tuberculosis was to eat only one
slice of bread and a fragment
of fish each day. Keats starved
himself to death because he yearned
so desperately to feast on Fanny Brawne.

Where are we, Hercule?

We're on something called a road, Auguste, where we can walk together.

Couldn't we do this, indoors?

Not and know the truth of 
my friend, that our road may 
end in someone's sense of what 
is wise.

Jack Gilbert
The Dance Most of All
  The Danger of Wisdom 
Knopf, 2009©


  1. and the simple photo of melancholy shared by two -does sometime end up in each others sense of wise

  2. A brief yet wonderfully evocative post of longing and discovery, complemented, as always, by excellent photos.

  3. hadn't thought of that ~ thank you

  4. Well, A, even the monks resorted to illumination. Here, we have portraits so that parliament may open; they are the quorum.