Golden trumpets sound
Hope! Joy! Renewal of life!
Nothing panicky here — just the joy of spring.
And a haiku —
as I work my way through all the poetic types found in
A Kick in the Head.
Heads bowed in prayer
Listening to death, life, earth
Snowdrops whisper hope
Spring is a time for all things new —
So, Stephen, I’ll try to write a poem or two.
The lemon candle
As ladybug aversion
Seems to do the job
My original last line was going to be “Doesn’t really work” and I planned to stage a picture of one of the many ladybugs in the house next to a lemon candle. But wouldn’t you know it — I couldn’t find a single living ladybug in the house!
I did find one that was quite dead, dry, and brittle, and it certainly wasn’t photo-worthy.
Plus it wouldn’t have been honest.
Lemon candles may really work as an aromatic solution to ladybugs in the house.
Either that, or the ladybugs are enjoying a snow day.
Dotting the hillsides
I love driving across Route 20 in New York and seeing the wind turbines.
Tall, graceful, clean energy.
I know they have their haters, but aesthetically, I find them a lovely addition to the landscape. I’ll be driving along, farmland on either side, come up over a hill, and there stand a half a dozen turbines, quietly doing their business.
Sometimes one will hide behind a hill, and as the tip of each blade rises above, it’s like a giant shark swimming beyond the trees, flashing a silvery fin every now and again.
(opposite of filthy)
Takes men working together
Toward common goals
Gently swaying in the wind
Two birds on a wire
A few weeks ago, a friend sent me a gift, a ring with two little birds on it. It reminded me of birds sitting together on a telephone wire, sometimes enjoying the sunshine, sometimes huddling together in the rain.
I held the ring in my hand and slipped it on my finger. It fit perfectly.
Alas, I’m not a ring-wearer.
Not even my wedding ring.
Not even the beautiful diamond ring my husband gave me after 20 years of marriage with a tiny diamond for each of our children on either side of the solitaire.
I took the bird ring off my finger and slid it onto a chain. I wanted to feel my friend close to my heart.
But I have another necklace that I always wear, with the names of all my children stamped on a silver disk.
Yes, my children belong next to my heart, because they live so deeply in it.
So my bird ring — so, so precious, because it was given with such love — sits in a dish beside my bed.
I see it and think of my friend.
And picture us huddling together in the storm.
Or basking in the sunshine.
Things we do for love —
Another load of laundry
Incontinence — blech
Paul Janeczko says, “A senryu follows the same pattern as a haiku — three lines of 5-7-5 syllables — but it is about human nature rather than about the natural world around us.”
I think this qualifies.