cf. The Finnish Museum of Photography, “Kulutusosuuskuntien Keskusliiton kokoelma” (edited detail) (ca. 1974?)
cf. American Mutoscope and Biograph Co., “Foxy Grandpa and Polly in a little hilarity” (1902)
Toni Frissell, “A couple walking along the Seine River in Paris” (detail) (between 1940 and 1969)
Fred G. Korth, “A Good Time In The Office” (ca. 1936)
Curtail far hopes to fit short destiny.
Even while we speak time, grudging time, has fled.
Seize eagerly each day, and trust the morrow’s grace as little as may be.
Photograph by Les Anderson via Unsplash
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire…
—T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land
O My Luve’s like a red, red rose
That’s newly sprung in June…
Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be…
—Robert Browning, Rabbi Ben Ezra
The thought of her
in that darkest winter
but your eternal summer
will not fade
You did not know me
but I was always listening
and when I lost you
I pulled my car over to the side of the road
As Spender said of Eliot,
A wonderful poet disguised as a businessman.
Just ask Clavdia.
(F. Scott Fitzgerald)
A romantic resting against a mantelpiece clock.
You were right, Scott—
the past is forever.
I saw you singing that song again
and I thought of art
burning like a flame
through time and tide
and I was driving with the radio on
(Arland D. Williams Jr.)
When you boarded the plane
Did the other passengers recognize you?
Put her letters in the fire
Striven back onto yourself
A place you’ve been before
When you listened to the aria in New Orleans
Did it unravel and fathom your heart?