Friday, April 22, 2011

Jane Kenyon - May 23, 1947 - April 22, 1995

Jane Kenyon didn't live a long life and she did not write a great number of poems but many of those she did write are exceptionally beautiful and lovely.  A friend of mine, Mary Ann, died back in January. "Let Evening Come," a favorite of mine, and, though I had not known it, also a favorite of Mary Ann's, was included in the eulogy.

Let Evening Come

Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving   
up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing   
as a woman takes up her needles   
and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned   
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.   
Let the wind die down. Let the shed   
go black inside. Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop   
in the oats, to air in the lung   
let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don’t   
be afraid. God does not leave us   
comfortless, so let evening come.

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