Newspaper Archive of
Feather River Bulletin
Quincy, California
Lyft
April 7, 2010     Feather River Bulletin
PAGE 15     (15 of 44 available)        PREVIOUS     NEXT      Full Size Image
 
PAGE 15     (15 of 44 available)        PREVIOUS     NEXT      Full Size Image
April 7, 2010
 

Newspaper Archive of Feather River Bulletin produced by SmallTownPapers, Inc.
Website © 2019. All content copyrighted. Copyright Information.     Terms Of Use.     Request Content Removal.




Bulletin, Progresstve, Record, Re porter " INSIDE SECTION B: EDITORIAL AND OPINION :, UPCOMING EVENTS t Wednesday, April 7, 2010 1B q Sweet spring \ e.e. cummings "sweet spring is your time is my time is our time for springtime is Sabbaths 2003, VI lovetime and viva sweet Wendell Berry love" The yellow-throated warbler, the highest remotest voice (all the merry of this place, sings in the tops of the tallest sycamores, little birds are but one day he came twice to the railing of the porch There's something about new life flying in the where I sat at work above the river. He was too close emerging in all its forms that makes floating in the very spirits to see with binoculars. Only the naked eye could take him in, spring a season of song more so singing in a bird more beautiful than every picture of himself,than other seasons, are winging in the more beautiful than himself killed and preserved It's no wonder then that April is blossoming) by the most skilled taxidermist, more beautiful National Poetry Month and the month of Earth Day, which celebrates lovers go and lovers come butshining who by than any human mind, so small and inexact, its 40th anniversary this year. awandering awondering thousands mean could hope ever to remember. My mind became In honor of both, we offer songs but any two are perfectly 0nly one amazing thing beautiful by the sight of him. He had the beauty only that celebrate the season, in all its alone there's nobody else of himself alive in the only moment of his life. blessings and beauty, alive (secretly adoring shyly He had upon him like a light the whole For more selections, visit your local tiny winging darting beauty of the living world that never dies. library or community bookstore. (such a sky and such a sun floating i never knew and neither merry in the blossoming did you always joyful selves are and everybody never singing) breathed .quite so many kinds of yes) "sweet spring is your time is my time is our not a tree can count,his time for springtime is leaves lovetime each herself by oi)ening and viva sweet love" Earth rar. ............................................. Gary 8nyder Wide enough to keep you lookihg Open enough to keep you moving Dry enough to keep you honest I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree, And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made; Prickly enough to make you tough Nine bean rows will I have there, a hive for the honeybee, Green enough to go on living And live alone in the bee-loud glade. And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow, Old enough to give you dreams Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings; There midnight's all a-glimmer, and noon a purple glow, And evening full of the linnet's wings. I will arise and go now, for always night and day ABlessing I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore; James Wright While I stand on the roadway; or on the pavements gray, I hear it in the deep heart's core. Just offthe highway to Rochester, Minnesota, Twilight bounds softly forth on the grass." And the eyes of those two Indian ponies Darken with kindness. They have come gladly out of the willows To welcome my friend and me. We step over the barbed wire into the pasture Where they have been grazing all day, alone. They ripple tensely, they can hardly contain their happiness That we have come. They bow shyly as wet swans. They love each other. There is no loneliness like theirs. At home once more, they begin munching the young tufts of spring in the darkness. I would like to hold the slenderer one in my arms, For she has walked over to me And nuzzled my left hand. She is black and white, Her mane falls wild on her forehead, And the light breeze moves me to caress her long ear That is delicate as the skin over a girl's wrist. Suddenly I realize That if I stepped out of my body I would break Into blossom. I