Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Closed by noon

Been waiting many, many days for her to open.  I thought the full moon might be the key.  Perhaps, the moon & the sparse rain today (last night?) knew the combination by heart.  Now, she's closed. Not withered.  So perhaps tonight again she unfolds. I'm reminded of poems being read to an audience and how it is an opening. An unfolding.  A good meal accomplishes the same as it opens up conversation.  

1 comment:

  1. The pensioner doesn't wish her postman any harm
    But it seems only fair to ask for due diligence

    Traveling to the distant lands
    the humble salesman arranges his wares

    At home, the grandchildren wander through his workroom
    touching the brass candlesticks, stealing tobacco

    Madrigals, solemn in their echo
    crush the summer air from a radio

    Wormwood, fennel, fields of herbs
    called into question, muggy happenstance

    where blueberries hide their fruit from kids
    and the promise of pie beckons them home

    (cp 443 from June 2010 Constellations)