Third of Five
Two Page Openings from
The Way We Live
by Burt Kimmelman  

Robin, Spring

The robin, claws hidden in
tall grass, hops forward and sings
a solitary note, hops
once more, stopping to sing two
notes, which loop through the air, then
tilts its head to eye the ground,
flies off to a nearby tree.


Late November in the
South Mountain Reservation

The day has taken on a plan
in the brief warmth of a late fall
sun, so Diane and I start our
walk through the bare trees, having left
the car in a drift of wet red
leaves by the road — no deer, no bird
either, but the stone bridge ahead,
and beyond it the waterfalls.

We climb alongside the cold spray
to reach the stream above, soft spot
of the mountain, where it might yield
to us, where we sit and pour tea
from a thermos, sipping it out
of paper cups, and I think of
the chanoyu ceremony,*
as we watch the light on wet rocks.


* Japanese tea ceremony otherwise known as The Way of Tea, which involves the ritual preparation and presentation of particularly green tea.

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