Also in the week's worry, my family's ridge-top solar envelope home in Cullowhee was saved from the wildfires by bold and brave firefighters. I thank them for that and think of them every day as they go on boxing with state-of-emergency wildfire in western North Carolina.
Go get your cup of tea. As my tiny first-grade daughter once said, sitting down with a British friend and his daughter, "I like a nice cup of Darjeeling." You might also.
And here's the accompanying suitable-for-tea poem, "Jane Austen Strolls the Upper Rooms," just up yesterday at E-Verse Radio, the baby (he also has a charming flesh-and-blood baby who distributes smiles on social media) of poet Ernest Hilbert. Auto-correct believes he is an earnest filbert, but he is not (though perhaps, like many of us, willing to be a bit of a nut now and then.) Thank you to poet Luke Stromberg for asking. I'm glad to have met him in the tangible world, but you may also meet both poets on E-verse and elsewhere in the E-world.
I like being asked, as I'm a bit lazy about the labor of sending poems out in the world. It's like laundry--I wash, I dry, I fold. Then the things sit around in a basket for a while before I force myself to put them away. Only poems sit around longer.
Love the poem. The diction made my eyes cross a bit at first read, but then I took my time and loved the way all the clamor and chaos give way to privacy and peace.ReplyDelete
Heh and hee and other noises of tee-heedom. What a good reader you are!ReplyDelete
Your poetry, fortunately not folded into fascicles in closeted shoe boxes, so often reminds me of Emily Dickinson and her sublime words:ReplyDelete
The Poets light but Lamps --
Themselves -- go out --
The Wicks they stimulate --
If vital Light
Inhere as do the Suns --
Each Age a Lens
* * * * *
Yes, Marly, thanks for the vital Light you share with us.
Aw, thanks, Tim--that's a kind thing to think and say! And of course I love Dickinson.Delete