Ta Da! My 50th Post! Please hold your applause.
Lost: 20 line poem. Free-verse. Reward offered.
It is the third day of the new year.
Hoping to see animals to theme my next twelve months,
I am wholly disappointed. The same crow two days
in a row, the same three squirrels, cats, fleas
and an unidentified hard-shell bug in the washer,
wrung flat and dry by Tide and the rinse cycle.
The only wild life keeping company with me is the two-legged variety,
A Jedi warrior and a puff-belly princess,
a little blond Wookie if she cares to play along,
a grinning spinner dancing stoned circles
in the kitchen if she has her way.
I have left the house to meet the bus, to greet the bus,
to bank, to market, to buy a fat hog. Jiggety jog.
My poems are stored for the winter under layers
and layers of grey squirrel fur, hibernating
in the molded hollow of a fallen oak tree.
It’s a good thing there’s been no snow.
Tomorrow I will venture out in my housecoat
and slippers to retrieve some words.
13 Comments:
will you take a picture of you going out and retrieving words? i can't compete with your food poetry, but, BUT! i have a fabulous purple robe with flowers. and slippers in several fuzzy colors.
seriously, i love the way this is both bound in the specifics of today (no snow yet) and a timeless place (no snow yet) all at once.
jiggety jog, off to blog!
"retrieve some words"... love that phrase. That's what we do, isn't it?
Hope you find your different animals- maybe they are hibernating, too? Perhaps you will see them tomorrow...
No doubt my rabbit has hidden all my words!
I enjoyed reading this, from the restricted variety of urban wildlife to the children as wildlife to the wonderful ending...
I love the idea that your poetry is squirreled away somewhere sleeping and that to retrieve it, you need only open the door and go outside. That’s going to stay with me all day.
Perfect! I just padded in from the mailbox in my slippers and pjs. This took unusual bravery on my part, since the house across the street is crawling with construction workers. Without my contacts, though, I don't have to see their faces. Nice poem, jilly - love that you're looking for animals to ring in the NY.
jiggety jog, off to... shower. :)
"My poems are stored for the winter under layers and layers of grey squirrel fur, hibernating
in the molded hollow of a fallen oak tree."
This is wonderful!
I absolutely adore this poem JillyPoet - it is so succinct and image-filled and beautiful and hopeful...
thank you!
I have a brunette Wookie who likes to dance to the Wiggles.
This is a nice piece of writing. It does seems like our words go into hybernation in the winter. Why is that?
This is great! Your poems flow so easily and sound so fun that you make it seem like it's a cinch to just dash one of these off. This one, with its hints and direct references to the narrator's very busy workaday world, suddenly evoked for me those stories you hear of the vast and creative resourcefulness of pioneer women who, despite the non-stop chores and hardships and shortages, somehow managed to squirrel away a little extra sugar and flour to make a special cake--everyone enjoyed the final product but could never quite figure out how she had accomplished it. Whatever your magic is, thanks for sharing it!
I agree with Jon. Your poems seem effortless. I'm glad your words only hibernate for the winter; mine seem to have gone into indefinite stasis.
Will you get my words, too, while you're out there?
I love the ending to this poem, and I love, love the title. The whole thing is great.
Hey thanks everyone! You all made my day, make my days, aw, shucks, you know what I mean. As for the pioneer women, well, they happen to be one of my secret interests, well, not so secret, actually, they do manage to pop into my poems now and then. But, truthfully, cake making is not my specialty. I can never manage to have all the ingredients on hand. And if I do fudge it, it is so hard for me to spread frosting. So hard.
Jilly I am late to the party, but I still love this, even after everyone else has left, trailing popcorn and spilling unknown liquidsn your carpet (blame it on the wookie). Next time I shall try to be more punctual.
I love the way you write about the wookies without sentimentality.
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