—Poetry by Linda Klein, Playa Vista, CA
—Public Domain Photos Courtesy
of Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA
OCTOBER
We took a walk one brisk afternoon,
shuffling through amber, brown,
and golden leaves falling around us.
I started collecting them and
you decided to join me. We selected
the bright ones, still alive with shine.
Stopping at a market, we bought the
biggest, perfectly round pumpkin
they had. At home we set to work on it.
You sliced off the top, leaving its stem on,
with cuts in it to adorn the cap as a tassel.
Then we both dug out the pulp.
The juicy pulp would be for my pies.
I hauled it off to the kitchen in a large bowl.
While you took the shell to hose off and
carve, I prepared the dough and filling.
Oven heat fused the ingredients,
releasing a sweet, spicy essence.
While waiting for the pies and breathing
their perfume, I wove a wreath from our
gathered leaves and fresh cranberries,
looping wire around a wooden frame
to hold the leaves and berries in place.
I heard you coming into the kitchen
carrying the jack-o-lantern and I
wondered what face it would reveal.
We took a walk one brisk afternoon,
shuffling through amber, brown,
and golden leaves falling around us.
I started collecting them and
you decided to join me. We selected
the bright ones, still alive with shine.
Stopping at a market, we bought the
biggest, perfectly round pumpkin
they had. At home we set to work on it.
You sliced off the top, leaving its stem on,
with cuts in it to adorn the cap as a tassel.
Then we both dug out the pulp.
The juicy pulp would be for my pies.
I hauled it off to the kitchen in a large bowl.
While you took the shell to hose off and
carve, I prepared the dough and filling.
Oven heat fused the ingredients,
releasing a sweet, spicy essence.
While waiting for the pies and breathing
their perfume, I wove a wreath from our
gathered leaves and fresh cranberries,
looping wire around a wooden frame
to hold the leaves and berries in place.
I heard you coming into the kitchen
carrying the jack-o-lantern and I
wondered what face it would reveal.
A SENSE OF CALM
I see myself as part of nature.
It is important to be immersed
in that which I am part of,
to find my place and participate
with all the other parts.
I know the feel of air flowing on my skin,
moving through my hair, and entering
my lungs so that I may breathe and live.
I see clouds disperse and scatter
in the sky, and waves dissolve in oceans.
They take part of me with them,
but I do not lose that part.
I am enriched by what I see and feel.
All living things with which I share the earth,
every variety and species, are my siblings.
To commune with them gives me pleasure
and a sense of calm.
I see myself as part of nature.
It is important to be immersed
in that which I am part of,
to find my place and participate
with all the other parts.
I know the feel of air flowing on my skin,
moving through my hair, and entering
my lungs so that I may breathe and live.
I see clouds disperse and scatter
in the sky, and waves dissolve in oceans.
They take part of me with them,
but I do not lose that part.
I am enriched by what I see and feel.
All living things with which I share the earth,
every variety and species, are my siblings.
To commune with them gives me pleasure
and a sense of calm.
ON SAFARI
On safari we rode in a jeep.
Our guide, Omari, advised us
not to stand up. It would signal
to the animals that we were a threat.
He pointed to the rifle affixed to
the front of the jeep, just in case.
We took two safaris, one to see
nocturnal animals, such as
aardvarks and foxes, the other
to see diurnal animals, lions,
elephants, and giraffes, among others.
Lions can be both nocturnal and
diurnal, although they see better
at night. Since human sight is
keener in daylight, we were fortunate
to encounter them only during the day.
One or two lions at a time,
slow-moving and sleepy-eyed,
approached our vehicle. We sat still,
heeding Omari's warning. Taking
photos from our seats. They did
not seem to care about us.
We saw giraffes from a distance,
graceful, though gangly, creatures
with sweet faces. They loped through
the tall grasses, as if in a constant dance.
There was never a need to use the rifle,
which was more ominous to us than
any of the animals, who are not
aggressive toward humans unless
we provoke them.
On safari we rode in a jeep.
Our guide, Omari, advised us
not to stand up. It would signal
to the animals that we were a threat.
He pointed to the rifle affixed to
the front of the jeep, just in case.
We took two safaris, one to see
nocturnal animals, such as
aardvarks and foxes, the other
to see diurnal animals, lions,
elephants, and giraffes, among others.
Lions can be both nocturnal and
diurnal, although they see better
at night. Since human sight is
keener in daylight, we were fortunate
to encounter them only during the day.
One or two lions at a time,
slow-moving and sleepy-eyed,
approached our vehicle. We sat still,
heeding Omari's warning. Taking
photos from our seats. They did
not seem to care about us.
We saw giraffes from a distance,
graceful, though gangly, creatures
with sweet faces. They loped through
the tall grasses, as if in a constant dance.
There was never a need to use the rifle,
which was more ominous to us than
any of the animals, who are not
aggressive toward humans unless
we provoke them.
THE MARRIAGE OF MUSIC AND COLOR
When they met, they knew at once
their union was meant to be.
Music for the ears to hear,
color for the eyes to see,
a blend that pleased all living things,
a mingling that tingled the senses.
Every note brought shade and color.
Together they were ecstasy.
_______________________
Today’s LittleNip:
A kind of light spread out from her. And everything changed color. And the world opened out. And a day was good to awaken to. And there were no limits to anything. And the people of the world were good and handsome. And I was not afraid any more.
When they met, they knew at once
their union was meant to be.
Music for the ears to hear,
color for the eyes to see,
a blend that pleased all living things,
a mingling that tingled the senses.
Every note brought shade and color.
Together they were ecstasy.
_______________________
Today’s LittleNip:
A kind of light spread out from her. And everything changed color. And the world opened out. And a day was good to awaken to. And there were no limits to anything. And the people of the world were good and handsome. And I was not afraid any more.
—John Steinbeck
_______________________
Our thanks to Linda Klein for today's poems of music and of color, and to Joe Nolan for finding us these photos of Fall!
Today (Wed., 10/26) is Sacramento Poetry Day, as proclaimed by then-mayor Anne Rudin in 1986. For Patrick Grizzell's story of how Sac. Poetry Day got started, go to http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/sacramento-poetry-day-by-patrick.html/. And today, go to UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS to see what Poet Laureate Andru Defeye has going on for us this year, including the City of Sacramento's resolution about Poetry Day!
_______________________
—Medusa
Today (Wed., 10/26) is Sacramento Poetry Day, as proclaimed by then-mayor Anne Rudin in 1986. For Patrick Grizzell's story of how Sac. Poetry Day got started, go to http://medusaskitchen.blogspot.com/p/sacramento-poetry-day-by-patrick.html/. And today, go to UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS to see what Poet Laureate Andru Defeye has going on for us this year, including the City of Sacramento's resolution about Poetry Day!
_______________________
—Medusa
Photos in this column can be enlarged by
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
clicking on them once, then clicking on the x
in the top right corner to come back to Medusa.
Would you like to be a SnakePal?
All you have to do is send poetry and/or
photos and artwork to
kathykieth@hotmail.com. We post
work from all over the world—including
that which was previously published—
and collaborations are welcome.
Just remember:
the snakes of Medusa are always hungry—
for poetry, of course!
