Friday, September 05, 2008
For Sandy and Theresa

I don’t know how it’s going back home—out here
It’s long been building back up to a kind
Of vehement optimism, weather clear
And cold: blue days like we’ve not seen, fresh winds

Harrying fall in. Quiet, dry yellow light

Rattles the English walnut, and the jays
Uneasy with the change, arrange to fly
Back to ancestral homes up in the pines.
But many central facts I haven’t weighed

Flit in the hills like shadows. And the dream
Hangs on.

God won’t return my calls.


Like bees settling into a new hive.)

Harvesting honey, don’t forget to leave

Enough for bees to over-winter, —I’ve

Got some stored in the pantry, to sweeten
The autumn air. For bees, I mean. What, sir,

Gives worries legal standing? Who’ll out-source
The reckonings? To labor in the fields

The sun’s been beating on since early May,
Lets guys we knew in high school have a say
About the vintage layout but, in sooth,
While walking in your vineyard I was stunned

I’d learned Euclidean geometry,
The postulates and theorems we all love—

Enough of reminiscing! Could you leave
A Wilson’s warbler, a wood duck or two,
Behind, let mare’s tail cirrus linger on
Above the hills maybe another hour…

There’s time: put on raiment of camel’s hair,
The meat of locusts and wild honey being—

So I returned. The old host in the woods
Was much the same. New doors were opening
To autumn light. It’s not by being shy

That I’ve accumulated several tonnes
(I like the British spelling) of ripe fruit,
All redolent of black current and Bing
Cherry, a brix just under 24, —

With so many pretenders shown the door.
Now long, late summer days, cool evenings, too,
Breach forward toward the barrel aging, but

We can’t be resting on our laurels now
That bay laurel in this heat exudes a smell,
At once piquant and sweet, up in the wood,
And storms assemble, equinoctial,

Patiently waiting out in the northwest
To ruin the harvest of our neighbor. Now —

I’ve mentioned the ambrosias of the rains
Winter will carry in, the year’s deer mice
Battening the hatches as in Robert Burns,

Working up nests of dried grasses and moss
Against the day of difficulty—

Prevents our souring on the mix of rain
And wind, is nothing less than optimal
Arrangement of the fallen leaves, the light
That’s all but free among the homing bees,

And soaring turkey vultures, that will win
Their place in heaven, however uncouth

Or ungainly their struggles on the ground
Dining on the unspeakable. Remains
Of these days being parceled out among

Us, the survivors, will beckon us toward
The solstice, as the wine’s laid up, and Juan

Calls us out for the olive harvest, rain
Or subtle shine that in the silvery leaves

Bespeaks a certain reticence, a song
Of water working its way down, the earth

Fissured, but gratified, vine roots at rest.



Jamie Irons said...

To my friends,

I apologize for "hogging" the page; I could not get the "read more" HTML device to work properly.

Forgive me.


chuck said...

It's a great poem, jamie, it deserves the whole page.

Jamie Irons said...

Thanks, Chuck, for the generous comment.

Charlie is working, I believe, on the "Read More" glitch.


Knucklehead said...

Dr. Irons! Good to hear from you again. Help yourself to all the page space you require or desire.

Barry Dauphin said...

...You're lookin' swell, Jamie.
It's so nice to have you back where you belong.

Doug said...

chuck said...

"It's a great poem, jamie, it deserves the whole page."


Doug said...

Another Genius:
From AudioFile
Although Daniel Tammet is only 27, as an autistic savant with Asperger's syndrome, he has already lived an unusual life. Strict routines are necessaryâ the same number of flakes of porridge for breakfast and cups of tea at exactly the same time each day.

He can recite pi to 22,514 places from memory, and he learned Icelandic in a week. He experiences synesthesia, which makes him see numbers and letters as shapes and colors and emotions.
(He was born on a Wednesday, which is a blue day.) Simon Vance enhances this memoir with a sensitive performance. He affects an almost imperceptible awkwardness of speech to capture the spirit of Tammet as an extraordinary and successful individual. A.B. © AudioFile 2007, Portland, Maine-- Copyright © AudioFile, Portland, Maine --This text refers to the Audio CD edition.

Tammet traces his life from a frustrating, withdrawn childhood and adolescence to his adult achievements, which include teaching in Lithuania, achieving financial independence with an educational Web site and sustaining a long-term romantic relationship. As one of only about 50 people living today with synesthesia and autism, Tammet's condition is intriguing to researchers; his ability to express himself clearly and with a surprisingly engaging tone (given his symptoms) makes for an account that will intrigue others as well.
It is with great sadness that I announce the passing of Buddy Larsen, an American Internet Icon.

In an age of crotch-shots and snuff films, Buddy Larsen needed no frontal nudity nor shaky-cam beheadings to spread his informational self, like a bat out of Aristides loquacious hell.

He could pontificate with the pontiffs and jive with the jive turkeys; he was many things to many men. There was refinement and gravitas in his poetic waxing about the finer points of chaw and he would never begrudge a man who was too poor to afford an effete spittoon. He could speak of monetary policy and romance, of patriotism and showtunes. If he was a robot, he would pass the Turing Test in the most delightful colors!

God, welcome Buddy Larsen into heaven, and let his energy recouple into the Internet through divine bandwidth, unbeholden to physical constants.
(from long ago, but where is Buddy?)

Doug said...

buddy larsen said...

"ha hah –thanks for the obits –naw, some of us have hurricanes to board relatives on the run from –AND some of us became a grandpappy for da foist time at 6:45 PM, when eldest daughter & hub finally dominoed. Cute little feller –looks kinda like Winston Churchill."

Jamie Irons said...


Mazel tov!

Chuck,Knucklehead, Barry and Doug,

Thanks for the generous remarks and the welcome!



MeaninglessHotAir said...


It's excellent to see you again! Y'all stay awhile, y'hear?


Jamie Irons said...

I'll do my best!



Doug said...

Girl from Chernobyl won't leave Petaluma

From Chernobyl to Petaluma!

Jamie Irons said...


Thanks for that!

Tanya would have found it even more difficult to leave the Napa Valley (not that there's anything wrong with Petaluma!)...

Doug said...


Doug said...