Wednesday, April 1, 2015

The first day

Probably a new poem tonight.  The one I'm thinking about posting is not related to my "theme," but a poem is a poem, yeah?  Research has begun.  I've got a pile of ebooks through which to sort and a list of things to check out at the library.

I'm thinking about foxes, lately.  I want to read more about them in relation to Chinese mythology.  What I've found so far is interesting - foxes as spirits or tricksters are usually female, and are often cast as "homewreckers," seducing good and honorable men away from their wives.

Glorious morning, when the light throws everything into sharp relief, and all the buds on the branches glow.  Soft, fast-moving clouds with blue-grey middles and shining gold linings; it feels like a rained upon morning without the precipitation.  Things are fresh, things are growing, it's a morning of essential, distilled spring.  I enjoyed Beethoven's final movement of Symphony #9 on my drive this morning.  The exultant chorale erased all worries of being late and any fretting about other drivers.  I believe I indulged in only a few choice phrases concerning the driving ability and ancestry of my fellow commuters.  I love thinking about the timpanist who performs the 9th Symphony.  It seems an entertaining instrument to play - at unpredictable intervals the timpani charges through delicate strings and lifts up soaring vocals and then carries the triumphant brassy marches.

On to a poem...soon.


  1. some days, a poem is a poem, is a huge accomplishment. <3

  2. Agreed. I'm writing, so I'll call it a win.