Day 29-

A Triptych of Time

Tell me that a day

only proves its worth in hours

and I’ll have more tea.

–

Such a waste of time,

efficiency deified.

Yes, I’ll have more tea.

–

There is only once

we’ll have this hour to treasure.

Let us drink more tea.

A Poem a Day

The wordsmith’s challenge: to produce a fully grown garden

in less than 24 hours. Plow down deep, furrough’d in sweat

and the searing summer sun baking whatever it touches.

Cast out fistfulls of seed into the shifting wind and coarse ground

where time and chance and powers above and below

cast out their wills or ills upon your tiresome toil.

–

An ankle turned, the back of the neck red, raw, pealing.

Old machines not meant for new work

retain their eccentricities despite your mechanical interloping.

Tender, anxious words spoken upon docile dirt,

your antediluvian blessing

meant to caress or careen a spark to light a fire all

too easily snuffed.

You trade your peace for her pregnancy.

–

Let loose your prayers for weather and time and the

vagaries of hope, if only to see once more

the perfection in a tiny handful of wheat.

–

Now, do it again tomorrow.

Okay, so this is perhaps cheating. The purpose of #novemberpoemadaychallenge is to use the initiative as a means of producing original poetry. Granted. But, this is just so good, especially on American Thanksgiving weekend. I find this poem by Joy Harjo utterly transfixing and transformative. Much more happens at our tables than we care to admit or even recognize. Joy calls these things to mind in this remarkable piece. Enjoy.

Day 13 –

The angular sky

The angular sky is quick

to remind us of

her lazy but subtle whim.