Unfolding, Winding Up

In our sixth session on May 30 Carl Dennis asked if there is a gradual growth of consciousness, an unfolding of the spirit, even as we consider the loss of a friend or painting the porch. The answer seems to be more hopeful than one might expect: Seasons repeat themselves, but the tree/Shading the yard keeps growing.

Ciaran Carson's terse poem "The Tag" admitted of widely differing interpretations, which, of course, is part of the fun of poetry. It's not out of the question that someone is just home from the hospital and will get well, but I think Mary's suggestion is the more likely explanation and invite you to check out the following background information: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1981_Irish_hunger_strike

One other thought on this poem: the letters D.O.B. might also make you think of D.O.A.

For those who have signed up, we will gather at Graffiti's Bistro on Pisgah Church Rd., just east of N. Elm St., at 12:00 noon. In the poem by Adam Zagajewski, Shoah refers to a nine-hour television documentary on the Holocaust, produced in 1985.