Too Late

My friend The Swede sent me this one Just Today. She sends wonderful poems. And for the world of memory that is always tugging at the corners of my mind, this one seemed particularly appropriate. We are Always Too Late MemoryIs in two parts. First the re-visiting: the way even now I can seethose lovers … More Too Late

On Memory

There are in our existence spots of timeWhich with distinct preeminence retainA fructifying virtue, whence, depressedBy trivial occupations and the roundOf ordinary intercourse, our minds–Especially the imaginative power–Are nourished and invisibly repaired…. — William Wordsworth, The Two-Part Prelude of 1799