What key is this in?
Wait, wait! What key is it in?

I woke up in my clothes again this morning
I don't know exactly where I am
And I should heed my doctor's warning
He does the best with me he can

He says I suffer from delusion
But I'm so confident I'm sane
It can't be no optical illusion
How can you explain
Shadows in the rain

And if you see us on the corner
We're just dancing in the rain
I tell my friends there when I see them
Outside my windowpane
Shadows in the rain

(Sting - Shadows in the Rain)

Autumn!



Atop the firetower at D.A.R. State Forest, Goshen, Massachusetts.

A Confession

My Lord, I loved strawberry jam
And the dark sweetness of a woman's body.
Also well-chilled vodka, herring in olive oil,
Scents, of cinnamon, of cloves.
So what kind of prophet am I? Why should the spirit
Have visited such a man? Many others
Were justly called, and trustworthy.
Who would have trusted me? For they saw
How I empty glasses, throw myself on food,
And glance greedily at the waitress's neck.
Flawed and aware of it. Desiring greatness,
Able to recognize greatness wherever it is,
And yet not quite, only in part, clairvoyant,
I knew what was left for smaller men like me:
A feast of brief hopes, a rally of the proud,
A tournament of hunchbacks, literature.

-- Czeslaw Milosz