me Converging of Evidences Fall ores vening came, a paw, tothe gray hu by the ever Pushing the door with asic, I opened it ‘Only along walk had brought me there, steps into the continent they had placed before me, Tread weathered log stone fireplace, broken chair, the dead grass outside under the cotionwood tree— and ital stared back. We've met before, my memory started to 53, somewhere. And then I stopped my father’s eyes were gray In this poem the ingredients begin to shift toward some kind of ‘meaning, Evening is “a paw.” I want that paw to appear gray, but cannot say so at first) The person in the poem is cautious He is walking into a continent placed before him. All things begin to try to sy something, and the sights are gray—weath- cred log, stone, old furniture, dead grass, and a cottonwood tree, which has sery gray bark and steadfastly populates even the dry country in western parts of the United States. This poem is one of the adder ones whieh has occurred to me; it becomes a converging of evidences up to a point and then Justa break, a break, becatie the evidences have clicked into the message. Ina rush, the cautious experieneer in the poem real the world placed before him, and what he sees is what he thas earvied to this point in his journey, a memory of his father's Actually | was thinking of a place on the Arkansas Rivet, and the grass and the sky 9, walked into that poet, gray, ray, ay, and then the eve came to me, svat rent of sid, On, fall comes back, My father eyes were gray." And somicone sve me u word for it onee. At a poetry gathering, a woman fame up and said, “You know that poem of yours, "Fall Jou ‘ney? That is elled—" And then she had a psychological term for tha, sort of ike, you know it all comes together, ike xone kind of Rorschach. You kieay, God's Rorschach tet. And He says, “Gray.” Ob, yeah. Yeuh, tha the ey... Yes al you ‘make me see something about this chat 1 adn’ Hoticed, and that is that in a way, where we siy something doesn’t follow, and so the end of the poem seems Tike a leap i's just bee ‘cuuse—one way to put It would be, just to ty to establish point, we have been paying attention to the wrong sequence, The poem isin the right sequence, allright, butts a surpeis- ing sequence that you don’t realize unt you get there. You don't realize what the principle has been, It's almost like math, for music, and so what comes tthe end is inevitable, i you put the right overlay on the poem. But you've been reading it with a different overlay in mind. I'm just dreaming this up as T go, but, yes, it fllows 1 AM