Oddments

In search of story


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Connections: December 12.17

My last two kitchens had islands

the ultimate luxury

the kitchen I live with now

is bestowed more modestly.

So I follow the ways of my grandmas

and my mother, apt and able,

enlisting our four-legged friend,

the enduring kitchen table.

But I have a homey bauble

with which they weren’t stuck

a low-hanging ceiling lamp

which I cannot remember to duck.

Hovering over the table

at just the exact right spot

it clunks against my head

and elicits descriptive bon mot.

Some day I’ll explain to my neighbors

the reverberant mystery

the gong heard ’round the ‘hood

it isn’t Big Ben — it’s me.

 

Yes, I know, dear reader. I took liberties with my French. It was too awful not to use.

 

Connections

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Connections: November 28.17

When you’ve decked your deck with autumn hues

of scarlet, gold and light chartreuse

you don’t expect what can appear

when summer leaves a souvenir.

Nobody planted it but itself

no phantom gnome or garden elf

it had to see, after hearing the tout,

what Thanksgiving and Christmas were all about.

 

 

Thanks again to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives

and D.J. Berg’s green (and yellow and red) thumb.

 


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Connections: November 19.17

Like wingbeat

a million splashes

each the size of one cricket note

but together rising, falling

in hypnotic patter

tell the time

of in-between

neither fall nor winter

but cradling interlude

to hold the year

one minute.

 

 

Dear reader, ever since I started using this new computer, I’ve noticed that the photos in my blogs come and go. Sometimes they’re there, and sometimes they’re not. Please bear with me. I have no idea why the photos sometimes don’t appear. This one is supposed to have a photo in it, but it doesn’t at the moment. Perhaps sometime before the end of time I will figure out what’s going on. Or isn’t going on, as the case may be.