Summer 2000 • Vol. XXII No. 3/4 PoetryJuly 1, 2000 |

Reading Henry Fowler’s “Modern English Usage” in Salt Lake City in November

You note the one "r" in iridescent, from the Greek, iris, rainbow, not the Latin,irrideo, to laugh, and I smile to think of your idiosyncrasy, scrupulous care in life as well as work. Today light streams in, the bright surprise of it risible, as amazing to me as sagebrush and pinions. First Westem fall, felicitous, pumpkin custard carrying clove into the air as the cats quibble over the patch of hottest sun. Gone: Old house, old roads, old friends. Gone as well that blue hour when lovers over absinthe in cafés console themselves for loss. That city's further than it's ever been, differs toto caelo, by the whole sky, from these nights of shooting stars and sunny days that beam across the floor like lace. If you were here, Henry, you'd advise exactitude, tell me to love the narrow difference between "broad" and "wide": a distance that separates the limits, an amplitude of what connects them. Some words refuse wide, admit broad: blade, spearhead, dayligh

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You note the one "r" in iridescent, from the Greek, iris, rainbow, not the Latin,irrideo, to laugh, and I smile to think of your idiosyncrasy, scrupulous care in life as […]

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