Sunday, September 14, 2014

Poetry Sunday


As nice as it is to have Agnes' father visiting us for a few weeks, it's also nice to have some peace and quiet. And solitude ...

Solitudes
by Margaret Gibson

For today, I will memorize
the two trees now in end-of-summer light

and the drifts of wood asters as the yard slopes away toward
the black pond, blue

dragonflies
in the clouds that shine and float there, as if risen

from the bottom, unbidden. Now, just over the fern—
quick—a glimpse of it,

the plume, a fox-tail's copper, as the dog runs in ovals and eights,
chasing scent.

The yard is a waiting room. I have my chair. You, yours.

The hawk has its branch in the pine.

White petals ripple in the quiet light.


Have a good day, and enjoy the rest of your weekend ... in solitude, if possible.

More thoughts tomorrow.

Bilbo

6 comments:

Duckbutt said...

Sometimes we need relief from everyday noise and issues.

Duckbutt said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
eViL pOp TaRt said...

I miss my boyfriend. Solitude is hard after his visit.

KathyA said...

Lovely.

Heading to your neck of the woods to see youngest child. Nameste.

Mike said...

My yard is calling me. "I need a haircut!"

Elvis Wearing a Bra on His Head said...

It's a really nice poem to contemplate.