Sunshine too Blithe
Rain & Sun - March 16, 2013 - Portland, OR
I lost a good friend yesterday, but couldn't really much beyond a daily poem. I'm sure I'll move on to feeling anger, but for now I just feel such a deep and profound grief. When I try to take too deep a breath it as though the pain rushes in.
Yesterday it was cold, grey, and chilly, which seemed fitting. This morning there was still grey, misty clouds clinging to the trees but by this afternoon the sun had burned off the clouds and it was gloriously sunny. I found myself feeling angry at that, feeling some understanding of Auden's Funeral Blues in a desire for cold, dark weather to match the hurt. A sunny spring day, resplendent with flowers, seems jarring.
In grief I find the
Sunshine to be too bright, too
Blithe for the moment
So Sorry for Your Loss
Dark Flowers - April 9, 2013 - Portland, OR
There are
Simply
No
Words.
Nothing even
Approaching
Adequate or
Meaningful,
Much less
Useful.
Nothing.
So
Sorry
For your
Loss.
Green Almonds
This weekend MC and I discovered green almonds at the fantastic market a new neighbor told us about, Barbur World Foods. They have all kinds of specialty foods from all over the world. I wasn't entirely surprised they would have green almonds in the produce section, but delighted to discover them!
The green almonds are fuzzy, delicate looking, and soft. You can peel them open with your finger nails to reveal the entirely white, soft almond inside. They have a texture similar to lychee, but not juicy. Somewhat grape-like, with a green, grassy, and somewhat tart note. I can see how they get used in a fresh, green gazpacho. They do taste of spring, of growth.
Green Almonds - April 8, 2013 - Portland, OR
After Winter's roots
Each taste of Spring revives a
Longing for Summer.
Fading
Fading Gerberas - March 17, 2013 - Portland, OR
The yellow flowers
Still grace the room with color
Even as they fade.
Evening Spring Sky
CK and I bought a new home this autumn. I think I knew I wanted to live here the moment I set foot in the kitchen. Large, great light, lots of space, and much better appliances. All that and most of the south wall had windows, sliding glass doors to a deck overlooking the trees in the yard, and a large window above the sink. As I enjoy doing things in the kitchen I get to watch the birds visit our yard to enjoy the seed we put out for them. It is so wonderful
Evening Sky - March 23, 2013 - Portland, OR
Rippling clouds against
A blue, late afternoon sky.
Near by, sparrows sing.
Spring Grows
Maple Start - March 31, 2013 - Portland, OR
Warming air bringing
Abundant life to surface.
Spring's wild abandon.
Sakura Appreciation
Autumn and Spring are my favorite seasons. During Autumn I'm convinced it is my absolute favorite, but then Spring arrives in Portland and the city bursts into a colorful display. When Spring arrives, I'm sure it is my favorite.
Sakura Shrub - April 4, 2013 - Wilsonville, OR
Riot of pale blossoms.
Morning's fragrant greeting
In chilly Spring air.
Bright Primroses
From Sunday's activities in the yard:
Easter Planting - March 31, 2013 - Portland, Oregon
The bright primroses
Lift up their cheerful faces.
Smiling with Spring sun.
No Heroes
Heard Billy Bragg sing Tank Park Salute live tonight. Although it came out 9/10 years before my Dads (step and biological) would die, it is the song I associate with their deaths, less than 11 months apart. Hearing it live is always something of a punch to the heart.
No Heroes
Neither of you
Were ever heroes.
Ever aspired to
Heroics, not
Even in your
Wildest imaginations.
Well, maybe there,
In the wild space
Between sobriety
And inebriation.
Even then, you clung
To safer waters,
Not the unknown
Shoals of bravery.
Still, you were
The closest I had
To an in-person hero.
At the very least
I so wanted you
To be my hero.
All that Remains - April 6, 2013, Portland, OR
In death
I have nothing
To offer.
No songs
To sing.
No salute
In tribute to
Your passing.
Nothing but
Grief
And longing,
Wishing for
The hero you
Never could be.
Never
Tried to be.
Junco Haiku
Poetry from the new house for this month of April, National Poetry Month, must first pay homage to the birds. Particularly the Junco who bravely watch me, but deem me too little a threat to interrupt the eating of seeds as I sit on the deck watching them.
Sparrow & Junco - March 23, 2013 - Portland, Oregon
The Junco come first.
Bold, bright-eyed, always hungry.
Not caring who watches.