Rebel Girl had never heard of the poet before, the great Peter Everwine who lived then and lives still (someone say yes!) in the great Central Valley of California. The poem was from Everwine's book Keeping the Night. She taped the poem to the wall of her small kitchen, above the round table where they first began to eat regularly together. Rebel Girl cooked Red his first artichoke, made him drink coffee, red wine, ouzo. He kept giving her poems. She is, all these years later, still thankful.
Night
- Peter Everwine
In the lamplight falling
On the white tablecloth
My plate,
My shining loaf of quietness.
I sit down.
Through the open door
All the absent I love enter
And we eat.
~RB
1 comment:
Now THAT'S a Thanksgiving poem. Thanks, Reb.
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