Almost ringing the changes of the puer aeternus theme, Roo Borson concludes a prose poem “Summer” from The Whole Night, Coming Home with an image that brushes up against melancholy but refreshes the mind with its sparkling originality.
No matter how many nights these boys lie alone on the rough sheets, they still won’t know why autumn will come, altering everything, bringing amnesia of the little they’ve understood, listening dumbly, happily, to the crickets, the sleighbells of summer.
Winter is evoked but subject to a forgetting. Nothing melts.
And so for day 1035