NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-Seven

LOL. It snowed! It rained! The delivery guys came! I had online meetings with work! I had a tuna sandwich for lunch! It was, my friends, quite the Monday.

Pandemonium

According to my believable source*,
this word was coined by Milton
combining the pan- of everywhere with
the -demon-ium that can only mean trouble
Imagine hearing this new word whiz by
in a crowded market place one morning
your brain perking up to parse it as
‘everywhere demons’ while your eyes
were talking to your feet about
where the closest exit was and your
hands were scooping up some extra garlic,
as you started suddenly for home,
your mouth tasting the pure dryness of ‘oh’
Or maybe it was more a tang of ‘oh oh’.

First: my lunch today, inspired by some wonderful celery:

and even though it had snowed before I got up, it poured during my lunchtime park on Darrow Rd.

I was just admiring some twelve over twelve light windows in the Shaker settlement buildings along Darrow Rd when I saw this:

I always admire this little building along Rte 20 near the school.

The UPS Man came just as I was coming back, with two packages: Watercolor paper, a new wool sweater and a car organizer for the front seat.

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-Seven

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-Five

I laughed at myself for writing out a postcard with this and then realizing tomorrow’s Sunday so of course no mail, but then I almost forgot that the interwebs is still open for business as normal. It was a beautiful day here and so I went out and painted, gradually reducing the layers I was wearing. Then I had a grocery pickup and discovered I had a cotton shirt in my car so I changed when I got to Mom’s with the shopping.

The daffodils have risen
up to the bird feeder
as May approaches;
the sky is full
of yellow fluttering.
A theory of them
being there year-round
and leaping up
to meet the spring
so elegant and yet
each year met with
my joyful surprise.

Perseverance is a great element of success. If you knock long enough and loud enough at the gate, you are sure to wake up somebody. — Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty-Five

Clouds and More Clouds

Clouds and More Clouds

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 One

A big front went through which made it rain and snow and hail and wind and then – Sun. A nice end to the day.

Before the trees leaf out in April,
hills are another shade of stubble.
Gold in the sun, violet below.
Pink in first blush of warm
the light slashes through them,
shivering each straight trunk
yearly urge to push upward.
Listen to those twigs whistle,
soon these low woods will be
chattering, all dark green
maple and poplar’s sap yellow.

NaPoWriMo – Day Twenty One

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

Also seen in my travels

Nature’s first green is gold…

No – you take the Corona!

Funky tiny house that mirrors the old shed behind it. Looks very cool.

Also seen in my travels

NaPoWriMo – Day 19

A beautiful April-appropriately warm day after a very cold night. No complaints. Sunday and tomorrow I have work stuff to do so painting it was!

Never kept a gratitude journal
figured my heart knew the truth
Now in these peculiar times
aren’t they? peculiar? scary
afternoons, draining evenings,
nervous nights, tentative mornings
overall mighty peculiar. But,
I was grateful for a sun-warm day
after a plain cold night
Glad for the oatmeal and the
apple I chopped into it and for
the nutmeg and its ancient grater.
For the coffee grinder and press
and the cup and the second cup.
I headed out to paint that welcome light
and pulled off along the road
I studied the landscape and the clouds.
A man stopped to say he’d seen me there
before and wasn’t this a day?
We chatted across the roadway
then he and his dog went on their way.
Another car stopped to check on me
and I held up my painting in progress
THey were excited and happy and
pointed to the hedgerow behind them
which, they told me with equal joy
held a cemetery right up that way.
I was excited for them, sincerely,
to have found such happiness and today.

NaPoWriMo – Day 19

NaPoWriMo – Day Sixteen

A weird Thursday, woke to snow (and an open window since I totally missed that forecast). Bright and sunny and cold but with wild wind and changing sky. Worms are settling in. Internet finally returns after twenty-four plus hours… it’s been real -real something.

But hey, we’re here for the poems. Sometimes you get a line and just have to go with it, just like days without internet. This seems to be a weird two-parter joined by the idea of “worn”.

Worn

I.
Evening comes holding a handful of tears
something about four thirty or seven
The hill across the way is yellow-lit
in the day’s last slant, somewhere birds’ last song
Night comes by and sits in the eastern sky
we watch the light change down to grey and blue
This morning there was snow, which, just to say
that this world is a wonder of beauty
and yet tears come cold and without warning,
well, each day. If not four-thirty, seven
and not even the relief of crying
So much it seems I cannot understand
How will the world be, reentering
and seen with eyes so worn by tears?

II.
This old sweater, I see the wrist is worn
away from use – I wear it every day
almost year round, so no complaints I guess
but what will I do? become one who wears
a sweater missing parts? And what of warmth?
I’ll be sorry to see it unravelled so.
I try to be pragmatic and think of what
I’d like to wear instead. Maybe two
rather than one so I’ll be less that sweater
and more me coming up the steps,
more what I do rather than what I wear?
Perhaps a nice black wool or charcoal grey
I feel like I’m cheating on an old friend.
I’ll pretend it moved away, and may return
with newly knit cuffs and glad elbows.

NaPoWriMo – Day Sixteen

NaPoWriMo – Day Fourteen

Busy day doing not much of anything and I’m trying to work with the NaPoWriMo prompt and now I’ve forgotten what it was really all about…

You’ve taken that quiz: what x number of
people living or dead would you dine with,
if you could choose? Classic conundrum.
The answers are wide-ranging, the reasons
personal and predictable, but for
me — give me a table full of folks who
call New England home. Set a place for them:
Emily, Robert, Norman, HDT,
Mary O, Winslow, and John Sargent too.
Billy Collins, (New York, but close enough)
We’d gladly pass potatoes and the night.
What would we talk about? Weather, of course
and love, death and happiness and all things
under that changeable New England sky.

Why these people, you and others may ask?
I like them for their New England natures
They speak their truth and let it surprise you
without too much fanciness. No big fuss.
I like things conversational, and so
like our dinner, simple and to the point.
Twist optional but appreciated.
I tire of the endless highfaluting.
Speak to me simply – what you saw and why
Show me what it did to you that morning
or how the light passed while you watched it go
how birds flew rising and falling like waves
Tell me in plain language how it changed you
all that light, all that living, all those days.

And I’m pretty sure I could tell these folks all about my re-entry into the world of vermiculture and how today I prepared for that.

We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give. — Winston Churchill

NaPoWriMo – Day Fourteen