Day 98

April 8, 2022

Powerful reading

 

Struck me as though it was from a different time, a long time ago, seltzer in small glass and mosaic like napkins.

Martin Espada, winner of the National Book Award for Floaters

He read like an over six foot tall bird, standing on one leg off and on and moving his body in circles like the heron high on the dead tree.  His words were not dead, no not at all.  They were life, the hard and the soft, the blood and the honey.  

I am extremely glad I got myself to Shelburne tonight.  

Prompt 8: A Sonnet

 

Each day I drive up the hill

to marvel over the natural order.

Taking in the rhythm that slows

my heart to a tranquil tempo.

As birds fly and glide.

The male common merganser

catches my eyes with his

bright white body, his almost

trickster movements in open water.

Swallows twist and turn dancing

in large groups choreographed

by nature’s mistress, in perfect time.

 

Herons are not quick not witty

yet surprisingly able and strong.

Their beaks are sabers, feet like

twigs of prehistoric times.

The yellow green phoebe

beside himself with family glee,

making the nest lined with cattail.

I drive here to make sense

out of seemingly chaotic bursts

of energy, here and there

 sporadic order placating my heart,

returning it to a beat  for a peaceful moment.

 

Rumor has it people are having a hard time accessing the video of Every Moment of Every Day.  I will look into tomorrow.  Sorry to those who have been disappointed.   I will make sure you get to see it.