I wrote to you a few years later
with congratulations on your
powerful wounds
with congratulations on your
powerful wounds
for your fate dressed as normalcy
for your pomp shrill and shiny
as new change
you thank me for my ceremony
my choreography of care
in these small wars
my choreography of care
in these small wars
that can bring only small victories
no, not even that--they bring
only small feelings--
where lightness and excess play
with echoes from excuses
and fill with waiting
_______________________________
Pic: I've consistently been late (only by a couple of minutes, but still!) to my Thursday-before-class-walk-meetings with KPB this semester, so my sole goal this morning was to be at our meeting point before she arrived. And I did it! It was such a gorgeous day... I will miss these bright blue skies when it's winter in Michigan. We're getting geared up for homecoming this weekend on campus.
14 comments:
LOVE this picture, and I, too, have been delighting in a bright fall while already feeling a little ad about the impending grays.
Oooh love the photo and the poem. Yay for being on time, my friend!
Beautiful poem, and beautiful photo. Yes, that sky is a very bright blue! I love it.
Lovely picture. We are having a rainy week in Maryland but we had a very dry summer, so the trees need it.
This poem is so charged with regret and a bit of...anger? resentment? I love the word choice that is hard and bright in the second stanza, and the use of Pomp makes it seem ostentatious.
That feeling is borne out with the phrase "choreography of care"; it's all shown to be hollow with the repetition of the word Small as a descriptor.
The speaker is definitely conflicted about their actions. I'm so curious as to what and why.
Small feelings. I love that phrase.
The grey skies of a Michigan winter. I do not miss them at all. The first winter I spent in Minnesota was eye-opening for me. The days would be suuuuuper cold, like way below zero, but the skies would be bright blue and the sun would shine. I had no idea that winter could be so gloriously crystalline.
I feel like choreography of care is something you're very good at.
It is finally feeling like fall here, rather than just extended summer, and I am about to walk my increasingly-losing-her-mind dog on a beautiful day.
I'm not sure if I accidentally enabled a fisheye effect on my camera!
Thanks for celebrating my tiny win, Nicole!
Thanks, Jenny! In a couple of months, I'll think I imagined this sky...
Steph--Thank you. And it has been dry up here too. I actually had to lug cans of water out to water some new trees...
Nance--I have to admit I made it up. The first stanza popped up whimsically, and then I continued to imagine some passive-aggressive drama. Novelists do this all the time, so why not us poets, no?
Thanks, Engie. You mentioned that thing about your MN winter on our walk too... it sounded magical!
That is such a kind thing to say, thank you! And now, I'm so curious about your dog and trying to imagine how she looks...
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