Poetry

The Sun Rising

Valentine's Day dawns tomorrow, and with it, my birthday. These days I love the sunrise, these days I am eager for the day to begin, to rise and take up where I left off. But I remember days when sunrise was not so welcome, when I did not want to get out of bed, because the things I had to do were not the things I loved, or there were tasks I dreaded to take up, and, every once in a while, because there was a lover beside me whom I did not want to leave.

The Sun Rising

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Long About Now

Even those of us in the land of rain begin to think that a little sun wouldn't hurt that much.

Loud are the thunder drums in the tents of the mountains.
Oh, long, long
Have we eaten chia seeds
and dried deer's flesh of the summer killing.
We are tired of our huts
and the smoky smell of our clothing.
We are sick with the desire for the sun
And the grass on the mountain.

- Paiute Late Winter Song* Read more about Long About Now

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The Things We Do For Love

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Boxing Day

Well, I tried. I Googled "Boxing Day Poems" and came up with some of the worst poems I've read in a long time. It doesn't seem to be a day that inspires. It's not even a day anybody outside of the shrinking British Empire knows anything about.

I actually am filling boxes of things for the poor - my poor daughter, who just moved out and has still to collect an Armageddon's worth of flotsam and jetsam. Read more about Boxing Day

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