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It's coming:
BLACK CORAL
The snow that falls so white and fresh
is quickly pushed to the sides of
the already salted streets
and more salt is spread behind the blades
The snow no matter how persevering
can't win a temporary victory
because it's not allowed to repose there
delaying commerce anymore
Snowbound in the city is an anachronism
The big blizzard of 1947, though, closed
businesses and schools, everything for days
in Waukesha Wisconsin
until the handful of plow-equipped trucks
could get around to opening all the streets,
and the Inter-Urban electric train did not run
into Milwaukee
The snow was dominant then, keeping everyone blessedly
at home, happy captives of unanticipated pass-times,
skiing to the grocers or to the post office, drinking
cocoa and digging tunnels outside, dawns to dusks
During cribbage games and radio shows, the wind blew
unending heavy snow all around town
And the ice-blinkered Fox Dairy horses struggled
to pull their milk wagons until they couldn't
negotiate the drifted valleys formerly known
to them as their street routes
And everything was rounded off white
for many deepening days
But now, when there is a forecast of snow
heavy or slight
armadas of municipal plows and reinforcements
of free-lancers idle their engines everywhere
loaded with tons of salt, waiting at checkpoints, ready
to make short work of any white that quietly comes
and to make the trains, trucks and everything else
run on time
The esthete dreaming of snow having dominion
over him for a just a little while
loses to technology and industry
but loses no precious time at work or school
thanks to economies dedicated to rumbling
street-clearing machines
and salt, lots of salt
and fervent salty neighbors
keeping their sidewalks absolutely clear
of Old Devil Snow, running neck and neck
toward the inevitable loss against the plowers
who fill and re-fill the grumblers' driveways
Over clear but gray-skied days, whizzing traffic splatters
more salt onto the salt-laced drifts and the sun melts
and re-freezes the mounds into darkened, pitted reefs
of dingy black coral
And you wish for another snow, as in 1947
[d. Zep d.]
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Old Smith Corona portable
I've dusted off the manual typewriter
having read enough feature articles
in papers like the NY Times
to convince me once again of the
clacking beauty of typing on a non-
electronic keyboard.
I found a local typewriter repair company
and will after an initial cleaning up of my own
take it in for an overhaul.
Many an earlier clack and ding tract
were logged on this too long dormant
machine
and will be joined at the fingertips -
hip, and as with it
~ down with it
can't quit it ~
they'll will ride across pages of history,
again.
again.
^,^
Recommendation:
Enlarge to 175% + or -
^,^
Kitchen tips
https://www.youtube.com/watch?
v=23qMd90xcaY
You'll find a wealth of good ideas here.
On the 'finding fresh egg' video, this method can be used for finding
less fresh eggs that will be easier to peel when hard-boiled.
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Welding tips
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We're related to these goats by marriage
Pictured:
Apple-culling goats at Ela Orchard, Rochester WI;
Ben Willard and Erin Dix, wed 7-3-16
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One Time
by William Stafford
Listen Online
When evening had flowed between houses
and paused on the school ground, I met
Hilary’s blind little sister following
the gray smooth railing still warm from the sun
with her hand; and she stood by the edge
holding her face upward waiting
while the last light found her cheek
and her hair, and then on over the trees.
You could hear the great sprinkler arm
of water find and then leave the pavement,
and pigeons telling each other their dreams
or the dreams they would have. We were
deep in the well of shadow by then, and I
held out my hand, saying, “Tina, it’s me—
Hilary says I should tell you it’s dark,
and, oh, Tina, it is. Together now—”
And I reached, our hands touched,
and we found our way home.
"One Time" by William Stafford from The Way It Is. © Graywolf Press, 1998
^,^
A little mercy now
