222nd Virtual Poetry Circle
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Welcome to the 222nd Virtual Poetry Circle!
Remember, this is just for fun and is not meant to be stressful.
Keep in mind what Molly Peacock’s books suggested. Look at a line, a stanza, sentences, and images; describe what you like or don’t like; and offer an opinion. If you missed my review of her book, check it out here.
Also, sign up for the 2013 Dive Into Poetry Challenge because its simple; you only need to read 1 book of poetry. Check out the stops on the 2013 National Poetry Month Blog Tour and the 2012 National Poetry Month Blog Tour.
Today’s poem is from Ellen Bass from her forthcoming book, Like a Beggar:
Waiting for Rain
Finally, morning. This loneliness feels more ordinary in the light, more like my face in the mirror. My daughter in the ER again. Something she ate? Some freshener
someone spritzed in the air? They’re trying to kill me, she says, as though it’s a joke. Lucretius got me through the night. He told me the world goes on
making and unmaking. Maybe it’s wrong to think of better and worse. There’s no one who can carry my fear for a child who walks out the door
not knowing what will stop her breath. The rain they say is coming sails now over the Pacific in purplish nimbus clouds. But it isn’t enough. Last year I watched
elephants encircle their young, shuffling their massive legs without hurry, flaring their great dusty ears. Once they drank from the snowmelt of Kilimanjaro.
Now the mountain is bald. Lucretius knows we’re just atoms combining and recombining: star dust, flesh, grass. All night I plastered my body to Janet,
breathing when she breathed. But her skin, warm as it is, does, after all, keep me out. How tenuous it all is. My daughter’s coming home next week.
She’ll bring the pink plaid suitcase we bought at Ross. When she points it out to the escort pushing her wheelchair, it will be easy to spot on the carousel. I just want to touch her.
What do you think?