Glasses Half Full

That's windows in the dark, especially our neighbors' windows, those tall neatly sectioned panes. I have photographed these windows before, but had wanted to catch this little tableaux. I love the rich cidery glow from the drawn blind, the blue eye of the computer screen, the fleshy plant, and, behind it, someone walking away, her back turned, a figure from Vermeer.

From glasses half full, to those suddenly empty, or dark, windows blinked suddenly out. A friend of mine has just died. Not a close friend, not someone I knew intimately. But a friend nevertheless. A virtual friend you could say, since that is where we met, on the net, through an argument in the comment stream on his blog as it happens. We sorted the misunderstanding and so began a fairly regular correspondence. His name is Reginald Shepherd, an excellent American poet and critic, certainly the most brilliant blogger I've come across.

Here are the first lines of his beautiful poem YOU, THEREFORE:

You are like me, you will die too, but not today:
you, incommensurate, therefore the hours shine:
if I say to you ?To you I say,? you have not been
set to music, or broadcast live on the ghost
radio, may never be an oil painting or
Old Master?s charcoal sketch: you are
a concordance of person, number, voice,
and place, strawberries spread through your name...

You can read the poem in full HERE.
Reginald's blog is HERE.