Beauty is momentary

From "Peter Quince at the Clavier"

by Wallace Stevens



Beauty is momentary in the mind--

The fitful tracing of a portal;

But in the flesh it is immortal.

The body dies; the body's beauty lives.

So evenings die, in their green going,

A wave, interminably flowing.

I will have no time for comments this weekend, and I probably won't blip for a day or two--so comments off for now. Thank you all for your wonderful comments this week. They have kept me sweet company. All is well.