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.
6 comments:
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!
Beautiful blog
Beautiful blog
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.
Impatience for happiness extinguishing insight— LOVE THIS— that’s exactly what happens!
Nance--Thank you! Also LOL about "clown feet"--exactly!
Rajani--Thanks!
Gillian--Thanks!
Engie--Right?! Me too!
Sarah--It's that hedonistic streak...
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