I shouldn't really post these--they're both "off" ... but, in my uplanned haitus from painting and blogging, I missed so many poets' birthdays--William Carlos Williams, T. S. Eliot, and W. S. Merwin in September; Wallace Stevens, e. e. cummings, Dylan Thomas, Pound and Keats in October; and, already in December, Rilke and Demore Schwartz--that I couldn't let another go by.
Exultation is the going
Of an inland soul to sea--
Past the houses, past the headlands,
Into deep eternity!
Bred as we, among the mountains,
Can the sailor understand
The divine intoxication
Of the first league out from land?