Sunday Photo-Queen Anne’s Lace

They’d found a third body, half-naked, in an alley behind the SIFF Cinema Uptown. Ligature marks on the neck. Lack of oxygen to the brain was cause of death. Her body was twisted, as if lain, under a mound of trash. Two years of fentanyl, and three emergency calls had made her known to the authorities.

None of the junkies told of any dramas. She was good-natured, but alone. Sweet most of the time. She’d been running shortly before time of death.’

The night stretched out before me. Thoughts arose like so many stars. I found myself angry, strolling along. Angry at so many failures, for so long.

the suffering of the world.’

Seattle Photo & A Poem By Richard Wilbur

Today, rousing from sleep, if your first sight was that of a young couple consumed by one another, silent within the silences of conversation, would it be as dark as the following?

I hope not!

Thanks to a reader.

From Richard Wilbur’s ‘Love Calls Us to the Things of This World’

               …“Oh, let there be nothing on earth but laundry,   
Nothing but rosy hands in the rising steam
And clear dances done in the sight of heaven.”

    Yet, as the sun acknowledges
With a warm look the world’s hunks and colors,   
The soul descends once more in bitter love   
To accept the waking body, saying now
In a changed voice as the man yawns and rises,   
    “Bring them down from their ruddy gallows;
Let there be clean linen for the backs of thieves;   
Let lovers go fresh and sweet to be undone,   
And the heaviest nuns walk in a pure floating   
Of dark habits,
                      keeping their difficult balance.”