Oddments

In search of story


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April 30.20: Coping

And so, dear reader, do we come to the end of Poetry Month, which I have endeavored to mark with a poem a day. I have greatly appreciated your company along the way, and I thank you with something for today’s celebration of Poem-In-Your-Pocket Day.  I have sent this to you before, but, since it’s one of my favorites, I send it again.

THE MIRACLE OF SPRING

We glibly talk

of nature’s laws

but do things have

a natural cause?

Black earth becoming

yellow crocus

is undiluted

hocus-pocus.

                                 — Piet Hein

 

I can’t say I’m any closer to a satisfying definition of poetry. It completely eludes me why some things are considered poems. Although I try to work with rhyme, it’s not because I think rhyme makes a poem; it’s something else that makes a poem. That part is mysterious to me.

But besides marking poetry month, I wrote daily as a way of coping. Poetry month might be over, but I still have to cope, so I might continue the mighty effort to post something every day. It’s good for me to try. I hope you are finding ways to cope, too. The anguish of this time is real and deep and we have to find ways to hold on to our humanness.


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April 15.20: Coping

Yesterday was awful

it started freezing cold

news blizzards swirled around me

I felt beat up and old.

The only thing to do

before I oxidized

was check the windswept pond

for life more civilized.

It seemed I had new neighbors,

two couples, more’s the merry;

I think they’re blue-winged teals —

how very salutary!

 

 

Do you know, dear reader?

Am I becoming duck-savvy?

I grieve to say my buffleheads have not come back.


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April 9.20: Coping

Just outside my window

comfy as can be

a most complacent duck

dwells in reverie.

Something makes her happy

content to sit a while

a secret she is hiding

with inscrutable duck smile.

 

 

With apologies for filmy look:

I had to sneak this through the Venetian blinds.

Maybe someone needs to wash her windows?

Nah…she’s not that bored!

 


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April 7.20: Coping

“Lavender blue”

and “lavender green”

a few “dilly-dilly’s”

and “you’ll be my queen.”

I never could figure

the words to this song

but that didn’t stop me

from singing along.

I find peace in my garden

and old-timey words

where twitters and tweets

come only from birds.

 

 

Family update: my son had “a bit of a relapse” yesterday.

He is being careful.

 


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April 3.20: Coping

I escaped into the garden,

a news-free calming spot,

to check on season’s progress

in every nook and pot.

Imagine my excitement

at this discovery;

I’m thrilled with its new life

but no idea what it might be.

 

Do you know, dear reader?

Is there any chance this could be the scabiosa that jumped into my cart last year?