Good better-than-yesterday-than-a-week-ago morning! Chris is rallying and coherent and will fight off the fever surges for a few more days, but is expected to go home by end of week. Chris 98.6 Gall Bladder 0
Today--in light of this most welcome of news from DC, I want to cheer for the poems of Jo Lightfoot, everyday poet.
You can find her lovely works on her blog at http://everyday-poet.blogspot.com/
Here are a few to tickle your senses!
Even in September Autumn grasses
crows complain. bristle their tails.
Fallen leaves Today's wonder
curl up to sleep. is weatherful.
For each leaf:
My, how I love this last one. Are we not all falling leaves from the day we are born? Are we not all shaped by genetics and life, bent and warped, smoothed and hollowed, cradled and fed--as seasons and emotions take us through our different dances? Perhaps, this is why a handful of us turn to writing. As we write, the twists and puzzles are unraveled. The dreams are given muscle. Songs wafting around in the little grey cells are set to whistle or hum. Tears are used for watercolors. Kisses are blown into the air so we can carress them as we trail our fingers along the back of a couch, up the tall smooth frame of a doorway, over the curve of the carvings on an ancient, battered Voss Brothers piano. Visions given voice.
We are the characters of which we write; we are the stories, first, last, and forever.
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