Seek Giacometti’s “The Palace at 4 a.m.” Go back two hours. See towers and curtain walls of matchsticks, marble, marbles, light, cloud at stasis. Walk in. The beggar queen is dreaming on her throne of words… You have arrived at the web home of Marly Youmans, maker of novels, poems, and stories, as well as the occasional fantasy. D. G. Myers: "A writer who has more resolutely stood her ground against the tide of literary fashion would be difficult to name."
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SAFARI seems to no longer work
Saturday, March 11, 2006
Death of a Fox
Tom Fox, rest in the peace that clearly passes all of our human understanding.
8 comments:
Alas, I must once again remind large numbers of Chinese salesmen and other worldwide peddlers that if they fall into the Gulf of Spam, they will be eaten by roaming Balrogs. The rest of you, lovers of grace, poetry, and horses (nod to Yeats--you do not have to be fond of horses), feel free to leave fascinating missives and curious arguments.
Well. You are a fine writer. I'll have this set of fox images, and the sadness that comes with them, in my head for a very long time.
ReplyDeletethank you for this, Marly.
ReplyDeleteOh, Ms. J--
ReplyDeleteYou may thank yourself, as that particular dream of a fox sprang up and flew away while I was reading about your vigil with souls and snowflakes.
Tom Fox was braver than I have ever been, and I hope that he would not be displeased to be recalled as a Quaker Friend-fox, spreader of peace.
Laura, thank you! A compliment from the lady of flourishing trees (and of pens and inks and brushes with wonderful names) is one devoutly to be wished.
Each has his/her own gift from God. . . some the gift of courage to go, others the gift of words to make known, all the gift of compassion to live and give as we are given.
ReplyDeleteDear one, write on. . .
And you have the gift of encouragement! Among other things...
ReplyDeleteThat peace embodied by Tom Fox has slipped through human fingers so many times, like a whisp of smoke or shread of wind, but your words caught raw truth, and that is as close as we're going to get to that pearly disk of peace.
ReplyDeleteThat's awfully sad and clear-eyed, for 13 or thereabouts, Miss Megan!
ReplyDeleteSorrow brings with it the edge of hope and the promise of new joy, so I suppose it's alright. Mayhap from the resting place of Tom Fox will come the robin with the first whisp of spring.
ReplyDelete