Private rites of magic . . .
An imaginary friend . . .
the Ancient Disciplines . . .
Unendowed with wealth or pity,
Little birds [and bats?] with scarlet legs . . .
~ W. H. Auden ~
from "The Fall of Rome"
**************
Montmartre Grave Diggers*
"The woman named Tomorrow . . . takes her time . . .
and drawls: Well, what of it?
My grandmother, Yesterday, is gone.
What of it? Let the dead be dead."
~ Carl Sandburg ~
from "Four Preludes On Playthings of the Wind"
***************
You can read the complete text of these
"Two Poems for Bastille Day"
on the
The Fortnightly Kitti Carriker
A fortnightly [every 14th & 28th]
literary blog of connection & coincidence; custom & ceremony
*Thanks to my friend Steven La Vigne
for sharing his Paris photography
~ Summer 2012 ~
"Altogether elsewhere . . . "
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