November 17, 2009:

This was a day to think about books more than a day to write them. I did manage another poem, this one about seeing the Leonids early in the morning.

Tag End of the Leonids

5:15 a.m.

In my nightgown, heavy bedsocks,
sweat pants, and jacket—
don't forget the mittens—
I go out onto the porch and wait.
The air is still, but I am stiller.
The walnut trees' thrusting fingers
for once do not move
in their arthritic contractions,
but form a nest for the brilliant stars.
I see a bit of movement in the night...