NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-three

Windy, cold, sunny, cloudy – just another late April Day in the shadow of the Berkshires.

Something about sitting in the car
apple and cheese slices and some
peanut butter crackers on the dash
with a cup of warmed-over coffee,
window open to let the clouds in,
someone else is talking somewhere
else about everything else
about all this stuff while
the sky is blue streaked
and grey in turns with birds
that fit the curvatures above
while I am perched here below
mere mortal, lunch arrayed before me
I should be working but I forgot.

The best way out is always through. — Robert Frost

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-three

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-two

Wow – a week to go? how did that happen? How was your April? How was your day?

Woke up to snow and January cold.
There was no mail in the box —
I stood looking at the daffodils
crushed down by a cruel spring night.
From there, things went on —
web pages just hung and didn’t load,
the pounding surf of the web reduced to
ebbs and flows of bandwidth.
It was warmer in the car at
lunchtime than inside the house,
and my cats looked woeful but
glad to get rid of me for an hour.
The daffodils were up when I returned
disregarding metaphors or forecasts.

My pen scratched and sputtered and
I realized finally – it had run dry.
I laughed at myself for having
muttered myself over this all day.
I cleaned it at the bathroom sink
flushing it with water til clear
then carefully filled it and – imagine –
only got one tip of a finger blue.
As I stood and scrubbed away the ink
the sky was orange at the horizon
and the sun a diamond in the
branches of trees somewhere near
I bowed my head to my task again,
the story of the day within.

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-two

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty

Today was a day about the day job. Felt strange and in a weird way lonelier than the past month and a half. But we trudge on folks, we trudge on. (And a hat tip to my Mom, Betty Frezon for a line in her chat tonight that ended up in this poem!)

I refilled the coffee grinder today
where it hangs ready to churn my
morning beans into a small jar.
I looked at the bigger jar with
its inch of oatmeal remaining.
I threw away the cheese wrapper
and rinsed the empty milk carton.
Took the trash out, bin rumbling
put some boxes in recycling too
gave coffee grounds to the garden.
The evening light shone out of
daffodils so delightfully happy
whatever time had been measured
was paused and pressed in amber.

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty

NaPoWriMo – Day Seventeen (hold that thought)

Yes Seventeen… you know what that means? DING DING DING it’s Haiku Day!

We’ll be fine. Mostly.
Yes mid-April snow is fine.
I’m sure we’ll be fine.

Tax day came and went
without much pressure this year
Uh, what is today?

Been eating healthy.
Stocked up on beans and cabbage.
Craving a burger.

My shelves are well-stocked
I have emergency lights
Could you please call me?

Social Distancing
is a must these days for all
Hey, six feet back, bub!

Who is that masked man?
This is not a comic book,
just the grocery store.

Stay at home April
time to write many haiku
and eat some bonbons.

The cats look askance
You fed us, now go to work
please and thank you mom.

Some day we will laugh
at parts of this pandemic
but not all of it.

NaPoWriMo – Day Seventeen (hold that thought)

In other news

We can’t go anywhere too exotic but we can dream…

Veggies and fruit arrive by fedex now:

The worms have arrived! (also by fedex, but yesterday)

Vermiculture 2020//embedr.flickr.com/assets/client-code.js

Other things you can do with an assortment of fruit:

In other news

NaPoWriMo – Day 11

The mail brought a postcard and the NaPoWriMo prompt brought a link to a lovely archived version of Kate Greenaway’s Language of Flowers. Lovely indeed and a welcome diversion on this cold April morning.

I looked up the meaning of forsythia
hoping to write a poem for you.
The only things in bloom here
right now are maple, forsythia and
of course daffodils.
But, according to my book,
the bright and bobbing flowers
in the front garden mean “regard”
and the hills of maple now a-blush
stands in for “reserve”
which seem like such a
Brontë-ish bouquet –
much room for misunderstanding
and resulting hilarity or tears.
Forsythia though, didn’t make the list.
Looking up other names
brought me to flowering olive
also not in the translations, and
Easter tree, while fitting in the
calendar, didn’t earn a second look.
So I gave up the old resource and
did what I had to do and googled it
and was told by several sources that
forsythia, being an early flower,
means “anticipation”
Since we are all guilty of looking
every time we pass, hoping for
that tell-tale yellow budding
I’ll accept this. And hope you
will accept my child’s fistful of
sunshiny anticipation and regard
on this chilly April morning.

Daffodils and Mailbox

From the quote box:

He who enjoys doing and enjoys what he has done is happy. — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

NaPoWriMo – Day 11

Other things seen today

Daffodils seem extra exuberant and much appreciated this year!

and then the hills, with clouds:

Other things seen today

NaPoWriMo – Day 7

Early poem today

All the neighbors, the men,
have got an urge to prune.
Starts with some study —
careful study, and clippers,
pruners and chainsaws.
Bonsai topiary to its conclusion
nothing to impede the mower.
My next door neighbor is
exercising his right to prune
the bushes overhanging his fence.
freed limbs knocking against wood
he pulls the invasive grape
which no doubt gnaws him
in my careless disregard.
I listen to the determined tale
of man against nature and bush,
sitting against the car, brushes
and paints arrayed before me,
warm coffee, sun in my eyes
beholden to the spread of
daffodils and brown garden
hidden from the pruner,
organizing his world differently
while I do my poor best to
quickly capture mine on paper
as the light moves even faster
we each bend to the task at hand
on either side of his tall fence

NaPoWriMo – Day 7

NaPoWriMo – Day Six

I’m settling into a new routine…

this morning double yellow lines
veered off the center path
and into the April garden.
when I arrived, coffee in hand,
the daffodils were bobbing,
looking around, going nowhere.
Sat on the steps, frothy shadows,
sun and breeze my companions
thinking this a fine office
meeting in my ear, mug in hand
chickadees checking in
wings all a-whir, they dance
How will it be to leave this,
this strange and novel normal?

Afterwards, I pulled out my folding chair for a better view of the front garden and had a go at it with both my normal palette and a new set of colors. It’s hard not be fascinated by the light changing on yellow flowers as the sun moves across the day.

NaPoWriMo – Day Six

NaPoWriMo – Day Five

I think staying home is starting to have some effect…

I wonder about the woman who lives here
Why there are poetry magazines piled
here and there and why so many
phases of books stacked and shelved
Why a herd of mixing bowls and not
so many cake pans or pie plates.
A vast population of mugs, mostly funny
a collection of teaspoons, non-matching.
The house could use, to be kind, some work,
but outside a bank of daffodils shines
and the bird feeders are topped off.
The mailbox stands quite ready and alert.
Here she comes, eyes full of clouds and the moon
a woman of some clear priorities.

NaPoWriMo – Day Five