September Sunday, 1976: To Lady PostScript, 2

[the reader is respectfully asked to read the notation at the bottom of part 1]

 

Barefoot, she says, is best; or otherwise,

cute socks for Autumn evenings' cooler hours.

Shoes can be tolerable in the rain

or snow when warmer comforts of the sun

are not available.  But Poetry---

with its elations and emotions---is

always present:  when summer blooms the bough

or winter strips it mercilessly bare.

But when she sits in her most favored chair,

a cherished book of verses in her hands,

the very thought of shoes falls, or drops dead.

During the pleasures that each poem presents,

a bounty opens to her to the full,

through which---barefoot, or just socks---she may glide

in moments that seem destined to her soul.

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