Autumn in Massachusetts goes by like that – a quick color riot at the back of the eyeball, three tingling inhalations and it’s over: Winter clamps down. Did we experience it, live it, love it, do it justice? “I cannot bite the day to the core,” said the poet Edward Thomas. Part of being human – to feel that in us, somehow, the moment, the season, did not fulfil itself. But we can write. Out of that sliver of apartness, that margin of longing, we can write it down.
September’s Pilgrim is a sequence of bulletins from the shifting world. States of transition, sundering or intensifying relationships, up-and-down moods. “I’m so used to jumping through hoops,” writes Steven Cormier, “but now they’re lighting them on fire.” Shawn Grady illuminates the estranged condition of the newly housed; Diane Wayne digs into the powerlessness of the about-to-be-housed. We live through a week of unbudgeable bureaucracy with Steven Murray; and Angel Serrano and Garret Jordan celebrate freedom from dependency. Elsewhere, Ned Carleton remembers time on the links with his father and his dog, while Pat Penzarro is sanguine about the Apocalypse.
We welcome to our pages Louis Hayes, Siobhan White, Michael Golden, Robert, David Corrado, Sabrina Davis and Karen Slattery.