Poetry Sunday

If ever there was a poem appropriate to the day, it's this one ... I think I'll be shoveling for days ...

Shoveling Snow

by Kirsten Dierking

If day after day I was caught inside
this muffle and hush

I would notice how birches
move with a lovely hum of spirits,

how falling snow is a privacy
warm as the space for sleeping,

how radiant snow is a dream
like leaving behind the body

and rising into that luminous place
where sometimes you meet

the people you've lost. How
silver branches scrawl their names

in tangled script against the white.
How the curves and cheekbones

of all my loved ones appear
in the polished marble of drifts.

Have a good day, and if you're shoveling snow, do it carefully. More thoughts tomorrow when Musical Monday warms us up with some vintage Sam Cooke. Be here!

Bilbo