Happily talking about nothing

And a poem set by Richard Wright


Just saying hello in a new location. Below is a work of the writer Richard Wright. It’s not his birthday, that was September 4th. But a good work to usher in autumn.


I am nobody:
A red sinking autumn sun
Took my name away.


I give permission
For this slow spring rain to soak
The violet beds.


With a twitching nose
A dog reads a telegram
On a wet tree trunk.


Burning autumn leaves,
I yearn to make the bonfire
Bigger and bigger.


A sleepless spring night:
Yearning for what I never had
And for what never was.

Richard Wright at work

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