"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.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
I thought I missed Lent. It's been gray and gloomy for awhile right?
Snow storms past, green points up. Twigs were veined red
with fuzzy tips. Easter's a few days away, cause chocolate cakes the aisles?
No. It's Ash Wednesday, the first of a long, forty day lent. I'm crying into my soup.
Forty more days-- plus weekends? Or something entirely too long to count,
too complicated to figure. No. Gray mourning, ashes, dust I won't take you this time
I won't. I will press you into my marble mortar, and pestle you into fine mist.
I'll spray my black soil with your goodness, so it can't be Lent. I'll allow saints days,
maybe a palm or two, and I will sprout past sorrow on shoots and leaves
until I've climbed a ladder with wings, and looking down I'll wave to gray clouds.
A pinkish halo, almost a rainbow, will point me to Easter dawned with all its fresh light.
I'll glide slowly down on its rosy hips, back to my old life, but now a new pale shade
of green. So we'll skip it. Lent is just hell, if you know what I mean.