Online journal capturing the moment and the memory of moments. A meadow meditation. |
SPRING: 9 'Azamát (25 May) Weather where I am: 89º and thirsty. Weather at Goddard College in Port Townsend, WA: 57º and damp. Weather at Goddard College in Plainfield, VT: 77º and nice. 3,507 views of this blog (not to be confused with a bog in the British sense, although ...). Amazing! I need to thank everyone who has been reading this in spite of my not being on-line as much this week and therefore unable to read other blogs as much as I would like to. Would like to be a better netizen. IMAGES I walk the alleyway where a/c vents hover over the cracks where weeds struggle: lambquarters, ailanthus, elm and oak. The ceiling fans whirl in the outside bar, the water drips from a spout. Stone and brick define the walls (are these the walls that keep love out?). Blue iris pokes at the sky, as tall as my shoulder. I speak to the husband of the gardener who tends the pink carnation I stoop to smell. I pluck white mulberries that look like maggots with black spots. One lone vinca blooms blue between the bricks, watches as I squish and savor the day's sweet fruit. I managed to call Gary to tell him about the hockey poems. (And to crow about the Sabres winning last night!) Most EVERYONE knows now. Just need to send out an e-mail to 'cover all the bases'. It's good policy to share good news. That way when I have dismal stuff going on it is less of a burden. Gastón Araoz called yesterday. He's safe at home in D.C., even though his flight was screwed up a bit. I had to ask whether he liked Kansas City's airport . Saw Arnell; explained to her why I've been upset. Spoke with Diane and Jerry who were baking dog biscuits. I liked the chicken parmesan one I tried hot out of the oven. I read about trees and some more Amy Lowell. I can write after reading her stuff. Rousing the dead Did you hear My voice in thunder? My sheets of rain that filled the cracks of earth? My hailstorm's rage against cold metal? I tried to wake you from your slumber, shake you from sweet dreams, plant a glowing seed of wonder to feel the beauty of My spring. But if you are stone deaf to thunder, callous, cracked and blind like dirt, mayhaps I'll need to shake you off My earth. [163.153] About those 3 published hockey poems that were published in Onatrio Amateur Hockey Magazine: 'Anticipation', 'Canada's son' and 'Why did we fight?' are found here "Glice" . It has only been reviewed 4 times. Prosperous Snow celebrating mentioned months ago that #2 was her favorite. That would be 'Canada's son'! But if you do read and want to leave a comment, tell which speaks to YOU. Just like the hockey mag, you are an important audience too. Prosperous Snow celebrating has a nice entry this week "Thoughts on Reviews Part 1" in her blog that explains how she reviews poetry. She's made a template, too and praises the new review tools (which I haven't used yet). |