"dazzle gradually"

"Dazzle Gradually" 2017 poems, paintings, new art & photography--a diary, a discipline, a delight. Read over my shoulder as I post my unedited poetry ---you can see it in the raw or get my first book and see how the work evolves with new books rolling out next year.

Polly Alice

Tuesday, November 16, 2010


Way to go you
I tell myself when I fix the tricycle
wash another load of whites that stay white
repair the laundry rack with a screw driver

It's the big tasks
like the bits of broken glass all over the front yard
the uneven drive-- in the crevices, the rock mulch
the flower beds, the logs-- from the fireman's grateful axe

Help for hire
is the first thing I tried, but the man
who said he'd "clean up the yard," only blew
away the leaves, leaving the shards behind

Cry a little
is my second approach
or maybe an angry letter about what "clean" means--
oh yeah, and the leaf guy stole my rake

Compose a phone call
never helped anyone especially if you
never actually make the call to complain
that the world has cheated you and life is unfair

Do it yourself
is the little red hen's motto
that I often have to follow when nothing else works
I get out the broom and sweep up the glass in Thanksgiving

That's not enough
I told myself and I knew it already
I scraped up shards of glass with the shovel--during, before
and after Christmas and Hanukkah and Kwanzaa and all the rest

Safety first
I taught my toddler not to put glass in his mouth-- and
washed away more menacing diamond grains when I watered
the the new rosebush in the front yard with the hose

I found the light
helped because as the sun sets in the evening while the kids are riding
little toddler bikes the rays catch on two or three bits of glass
every time I think this is the last piece

I found the light
helped because the sun sets at a different angle each day of the year--
its more noticeable when the season changes-- a different angle each day
shows there is always another shard of glass I miss

I see the light
reflect on the pile of glass on the low wall where I collect them
the rain washes them clean from smokey yellow to icy white
I put them in a little jar in the garage to save them and remember

It's half empty
there is room left for the shards I may find tomorrow
more bits to be brought out of the soil by raking and rain storms--
squirrels, worms and birds will help me find the rest

I knew it all along
I tell myself when I look at the jar full of splinters
I've prevented-- by picking up each shard
I see that impossible tasks are always solved like this one

One day at a time


  1. What do you do with the shards, dear artist?

  2. I put them in a jar.


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