Report From PIA – January 16
We were up in Newton, MA today for Irene Galdston’s memorial service. It was everything such an occasion should be: sad, honest, funny, touching, and loving. I read one of her poems, which I think you will appreciate.
Spring
It’s spring!
I open wide my sleep-soaked eyes,
To view to with pleasure and surprise,
The sudden green of my dormant lawn.
Then reluctantly stifling a lazy yawn,
I hasten to rake and seed and feed,
And not long enough later to water and weed,
Giving such care as is nearly maternal,
With thoughts through the day and even nocturnal,
(To say nothing of cutting, which just seems diurnal),
Abandoning book and T.V. and journal,
As I spring to keep the infernal lawn vernal.
In these days when so many are cursing “the infernal lawn”, Irene seems ahead of her time.
