On Jul 18, 2015, at 8:11, Douglas Barbour <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> That shift at the end hurts, Max. As the quirky details had caught.
>
> I wonder, from our perspective, if that fifth line isn’t a bit odd (I know I can’t tell with manny any more).
>
> Doug
> On Jul 15, 2015, at 9:02 AM, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
>
>> Touched
>>
>> Through the spacious waiting areas
>> of the Cancer Institute, First Hill,
>>
>> came dancing a sprightly lady
>> in bright cloak tunic and tights -
>>
>> seventy, if she was a day.
>> Behind her decorously came
>>
>> her daughter, one guessed,
>> and two granddaughters smiling
>>
>> back at me when I smiled.
>> Grandmother was today some
>>
>> superwoman returned, giving
>> thanks to all at the Institute.
>>
>> As she turned she saw my smile
>> with gracious acknowledgment,
>>
>> made her exit with her train,
>> reprieved, restored, rejuvenated?
>>
>> So it seemed, but her ravaged face
>> stayed in my mind long after,
>>
>> and her strong young womenfolk.
>> Touched? ’She seemed a bit…touched?’
>>
>> That’s what we used to say after
>> some fey old thing danced by.
>>
>> Seattle July 2015
>
> Douglas Barbour
> [log in to unmask]
>
> Recent publications: (With Sheila E Murphy) Continuations & Continuation 2 (UofAPress).
> Recording Dates (Rubicon Press).
>
> Done in by creation itself.
>
> I mean the gods. Not us. Well us too.
> The gods moved into books. Who wrote the books?
> We wrote the books. In whose dream, then are we dreaming?
>
> Robert Kroetsch.
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