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Monday, October 28, 2013

Fin Octobre

I have been spending more time outside post surgery because the fresh air and vivid Autumn scene that I am surround by is the perfect tonic for healing. So It is only natural that my mind would track straight to one of my favorite poems...LATE OCTOBER by May Angelou.

I will admit that this amazing poem carries some unwanted baggage for me since it was printed on the wedding program for my marriage to Marcia. But this Big, Burly Broad-Shouldered work is more then muscular enough to carry that burden and much more. It still is a favorite though it reminds me of that oh so painful episode of my life and of MANY Regrets. Oh Well....I like it anyway so the hell with all of that!

Tonight I dedicate this ode to Love, Survival and Re-Birth to my friend Chris...My Dear, you are the first person I think of these days when I read "Fin Octobre"...


"Late October"by Maya Angelou 
the leaves of autumn
sprinkle down the tinny
sound of little dyings
and skies sated
of ruddy sunsets
of roseate dawns
roil ceaselessly in
cobweb greys and turn
to black
for comfort.

Only lovers
see the fall
a signal end to endings
a gruffish gesture alerting
those who will not be alarmed
that we begin to stop
in order simply
to begin


  1. Have I seen this poem on your blog before? something tells me I might have, and it would only be appropriate for this time of death and rebirth... my man Murdoc was born in the sign of death and is the king of yearly cycles, evaluations and going once more around the block, so that the next round may be better, kinder, and more loving. That makes it twice as gorgeous in my eyes.

    As for the baggage, some of the burden we carry may never go away completely, and that's OK because we should own and remember our history. At the same time, and especially with these cyclical things, every reading, every turn is a new chance to reclaim and relive.

    1. Oh Yea C, you have seen this one here before. I have held this one close for decades.I couldn't agree more with you about baggage,,,that's very true and important really to our growth as human beings. Facing and learning from one's past.

      Actually it was you and Murdoch, what you two are and represent (at least based on what little I know about it) that inspired me to re-post this poem.

      There is something about the line: "roil ceaselessly in cobweb greys and turn to black for comfort". That I just feel in the deep, dark recesses of my being. I often have turned to black for comfort...