October 18, 2013

The day is yet one more yellow leaf and without turning I kiss the light by an old well on the last of the month gathering wild rose hips in the sun.

—W.S. Merwin

October 11, 2013

I mean if they’re running and they don’t look where they’re going I have to come out from somewhere and catch them. That’s all I do all day. I’d just be the catcher in the rye and all.

—JD Salinger

October 4, 2013

The breezes taste Of apple peel. The air is full Of smells to feel — Ripe fruit, old footballs, Burning brush, New books, erasers, Chalk, and such.

—John Updike

September 27, 2013

Under a blue cloud-ruffled sky, dense trees along the banks, and a fellow with a red bandana sitting in a small, green flat-bottom boat holding the thin whip of a pole.

—Billy Collins