Friday, April 20, 2018

Slush and Slant Rhymes


Early Tuesday morning we got six wet, heavy inches of snow.


This is not unusual. My parents have dozens of slides taken during my childhood that feature bright
red tulips blooming out of the snow. Descendants of those tulips are just getting warmed up, plenty of more weeks with possible snow, but somehow it seems more like a personal affront this year.

So, I must be a good girl and count my blessings (or at least my blossoms).








My favorite exotic wildflowers are starting to bloom.





So is my birthday-present peach tree,





and the pears,











and Grandpa's cherry tree.

Of course that means if it doesn't warm up soon and stay that way, we may not have fruit this year.

Oops--supposed to be counting blessings.


Aquarium flowers count as mine, since I'm a member, right? The South American rain forest there is amazing. I see something new blooming every visit.




A huge blessing for me this spring has been the constant presence of daffodils outside my window for nearly two months. I had no idea what I was doing when I planted them, but I have managed to get five different varieties that bloom at different times.

Although unstable weather has kept us from riding bikes very often, I am trying to get my beast outside, which results in cold toes and sloppy shoes, but a happy mutt. 

And, once again, I am feeling the urge to write poetry and feeling stymied by my foggy brain. But I am reading about writing poetry and trying to dip my toe back in the water.

I have managed to write a short piece this week. It is a poem about writing poetry, which, as a genre, I find as annoying as those plays with plays in them. (Yes, I'm talking to you, Bill.) But here it goes--


Once 
I carved 
rare, juicy 
verbs
across the grain

savored
hearty, roasted 
nouns

tasted 
minced
adjectives 
in a light
prepositional
glaze


Now I lean over the sink
spoon in hand

eat cold alphabet soup
from a can



I wouldn't actually eat cold alphabet soup--but poetry isn't entirely non-fiction. Maybe if I keep doing these warm up exercises, the frozen part of my brain will actually warm up a bit.

THE PODCAST was enlightened by an episode of another podcast, Ben Franklin's World had an interview about the Great Awakening, which helped me understand Emily Dickinson's religious background and with it some of her struggle with faith. Emily and I confront big questions about the nature of God in this week's episode.

THE KNITTING comes along slowly. The skirt is monotonous and heavy. I have broken one needle on it so far and my arms feel like I have been lifting weights. When I finish, I will reward myself by knitting a lightweight, lacy cotton vest. I bought the pattern and yarn  years ago. Mine will be in bright turquoise. By the time it is finished, I should be able to find a place I can model it in knee-deep flowers.




2 comments:

  1. The only blooms we have right now are on our pear trees. They will survive, but darn we need some flowers.

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  2. Long winters are as hard on our brains as on our aching bodies. I hope spring really starts for you soon.

    ReplyDelete