Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Autumnal Equinox


Since the weather seems unable to decide what it is, I offer this for its consideration:


Autumnal Equinox

The rain begs me to record its thoughts,
Catching words as raindrops fall.
They collect in a rain barrel, jostling each other within -
All those words, bunched up together like a cluster of grapes ready to harvest.

This rain has now decided it find drops too subtle 
And begins to send a steady stream
From heaven to earth, lines of water
Forming corridors of wet and overfilling the water table
    
Less words now than phrases, fully formed and developed,
Soon to become lines and stanzas
A bit overwrought because they are so full of the tears and sobs of grief
At the news of summer, who passed away just yesterday.





Sept. 23, 2011

Sunday, November 6, 2011

A Desk of My Own





The desk is strong and broad, with plenty of room for stray papers to get lost.
A gift, of sorts, a cast-off from across-the-street, it is exactly what I need.
Dangling in front of my peripheral vision are the feet
of that marionette you bought and love –
Shall I ask you to find it a new spot
Or leave it, to draw from me the occasional chuckle?

I’ve put the desk here by the window, in the good light,
where the sun comes in strong and bright all morning.
The mint grows crazy on the hillside just out there,
and there are a few baby tomatoes that still might ripen before the frosts hit.
Weeds poke through cracks in the stone wall,
Climbing from far below the earth’s surface to reach the sun.
I won’t run to pull them out.

Running my hands over the smooth finish, admiring the drawers where I will put my pencils and paper clips,
I think that new chapters always begin with a new desk.
The first had my name, printed in teacher-neat letters, center-top.
I copied the letters and wrote my name for the first time,
Claiming myself and my place in the classroom, seeking
Miss Pearl’s sweet smile.


9/11