Saturday, January 20, 2024

winter afternoon

the book forgotten in my hands
this blood rush in my wrists 
leaves of light and insight 
quickly extinguished 

by my impatience for happiness
the dear, vulgar excitements--
where I embrace your 
suspended grace 

expecting your face will soften
when I say my wild gladness 
doesn't know where to end--
has only learned to bloom 
Pic: From this afternoon's walk with Big A. The Red Cedar is frozen upstream, but here by the rapids, there were crowds of mallards with their emerald plumage and ridiculous orange feet. 


Nance said...

This poem is so sweet and romantic. This is what a happy marriage looks like!

Re: the photo--I love the gentlemanly look of mallards in their finery as they glide along the water. Then they get out and the facade crumbles: they waddle gracelessly on those clownish orange feet!

Rajani Rehana said...

Beautiful blog

Rajani Rehana said...

Beautiful blog

NGS said...

I honestly don't understand bird feet. Like, I get that birds can stay warm because they have down and waterproof feathers and stuff. But how come their feet don't get frostbite?! I have so many bird questions.

Sarah said...

Impatience for happiness extinguishing insight— LOVE THIS— that’s exactly what happens!

maya said...

Nance--Thank you! Also LOL about "clown feet"--exactly!



Engie--Right?! Me too!

Sarah--It's that hedonistic streak...

on a break (Winter Break)

It was so rude of Big A to cheerily text me "one more year" on New Year's day and then explain that in 2025 Nu would be off to...