Most of my life was spent
building a bridge out over the sea
though the sea was too wide.
I’m proud of the bridge
hanging in the pure sea air. Machado
came for a visit and we sat on the
end of the bridge, which was his idea.
Now that I’m old the work goes slowly.
Ever nearer death, I like it out here
high above the sea bundled
up for the arctic storms of late fall,
the resounding crash and moan of the sea,
the hundred-foot depth of the green troughs.
Sometimes the sea roars and howls like
the animal it is, a continent wide and alive.
What beauty in this the darkest music
over which you can hear the lightest music of human
behavior, the tender connection between men and galaxies.
So I sit on the edge, wagging my feet above
the abyss. Tonight the moon will be in my lap.
This is my job, to study the universe
from my bridge. I have the sky, the sea, the faint
green streak of Canadian forest on the far shore.
“Bridge” by Jim Harrison from Dead Man’s Float
i’ve read this poem many times over and find it more beautiful each time. it’s from writer’s almanac. maybe you would like to read it aloud to yourself, or your cat tonight. i don’t know…
i love this line: What beauty in this the darkest music over which you can hear the lightest music of human behavior, the tender connection between men and galaxies.
in the world of school, i have found myself back in chinatown. subbing for now. i start in a transitional kindergarten class on monday. 4 year olds.
some pics from today’s assignment in a kinder class.
stay tuned for stories from the trenches. it’s possible i will live to tell them. but for now i will sit here on my bridge and study the universe.
goodnight from the city of angels…