watching her sing

Posted on January 24, 2010 by riverwriter

If fireworks could smile at night as they light up the sky,
and if a child in a shopping mall could smile like that
upon finding and thereby saving her lost mummy; and
if you could see her smile of rescue, you have an inkling
how transporting is this singer’s joy, how she lends delight
to the bouquet of notes and Continue reading →

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glass, silk, ebony, fur

Posted on January 23, 2010 by riverwriter

Can’t recall the experiment exactly,
but it seems to me that rubbing
an ebony rod on cat fur generated
an electric charge.
I say that to distract myself from
the weeping I did yesterday
when I hauled out the suitcase
and discovered it was covered
with gray cat fur.
My old gray cat,
who, until she got too old
and deaf and wobbly, Continue reading →

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corner

Posted on January 22, 2010 by riverwriter

At solstice now we face the heart of winter,
even though cold days are growing long,
we cannot help but stoke the fires and shiver
and know it will be months before birds’ song.

The light of day grows long and that’s a comfort:
it means the sun must surely bring the summer,
and with it come bare feet, Continue reading →

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