A Sonnet: Day’s End, Commuter Style

Written for a World Lit class at the College of DuPage, in 1970

It’s five o’clock and at the close of day

The streets are filled with people who are done

With work, and hurry quickly on their way

To catch a bus, a train, some transportation

That will get them to their various homes.

It’s spring, or so the calendar proclaims.

Snow, sleet, and slush the earth embalm

With white; the weather still old Winter claims.

To some the thought of home brings glad retreat

From all the din the city brings. Their trains

Transport them to suburbia where they meet

The glimpse of what the end of daylight reigns.

 

The sunset of another day has spread

It’s brilliant rays of light on earth’s white bed.

 

— Ginni Freshour

For Jan

“It seems it should be lilac time,” he said of her

Who was his daughter; Who was my sister.

She who hated winter and loved the spring.

But during winter’s firm and bitter grasp she left us,

So that in the cold and dark of winter we recall this bleak day.

Not like Walt Whitman whose sorrow returned with ever returning spring,

Our sorrow returns in winter.

At spring, when lilacs bloom again, we can rejoice her journey is complete,

And remember her in a place

Radiant with the warmth and flame and beauty of God’s eternal presence.

 

In the Middle of the Night

In the warm, damp chill of this very early morning, I seek His face.

Blessed art Thou O Lord, teach me thy statutes.

He knows the seasons of my life now passed.

Blessed art Thou O Master, make me to understand Thy commandments.

He knows the new season now begun.

Blessed art Thou O Holy One, enlighten me with Thy precepts.

In the warm, damp chill of this new-born day,

Let they mercy be upon me for I have set my hope on Thee.

Blessed art Thou O Lord.