Tuesday, April 24, 2012

National Poetry Month: Day Twenty Four


Today is the day
when it just may not happen.

Tell that to the sun and shadow
playing on the front lawn
or the tiny brown birds hiding
in the tall grass of the backyard.

Tell it to the vine of morning glory
climbing so patiently up
a strand of yarn
it is almost heart-breaking.

Tell it to the familiar chaos of the desk
or the happy accident of the clean kitchen table.

Tell it to the sausage singing in the pan.


Mrs. G. said...

"...sausage singing in the pan"

Beautiful on so many levels.

Mrs. G. said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Anonymous said...

i'm thinking i could say poems like this are one of the reasons i married you, but then it would be sort of about me, and i didn't want that, so its really about the sausage i think....

and the morning glories....

and the poet observing it all and bringing it together for the rest of us to behold

i love you

MaxDude said...

Sausage sings?

It doesn't matter, it's still poetic awesomeness.