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Thursday, November 23, 2023

Grasping The Poem

 
—Poetry by Kathy Kieth, Diamond Springs, CA
—Photos Courtesy of Public Domain


Sometimes a Poem Comes

with the close of a rose at the end of a long
hot summer day . . .  Or on the wings

of the snowy owl as she glides to her nest
with her first catch of the night . . . In slow

twists and turns of the stained glass dove
that flashes pearlescence in my bedroom

window . . .  Or the stretchings of the black
cat as he settles on the bedspread for a quick

nap after dinner . . .  Sometimes poems come
from a hummingbird's last long pull of nectar

as she races to beat the rushing dusk . . .  Or
you, coming in the door, still full of hope, even

after the dry heat of a long summer day . . .

__________________

Today’s LittleNip:

TALKIN’ TURKEY DAY
—Joe Nolan, Stockton, CA

Gobble-gobble!
Eatin’ lots of turkey.
Tryptophan kicks in.
Now you’re lying back,
Pushin’ buttons for your TV game.
You might be asleep before half-time.

___________________

Gratitude is a slippery beast; it can slide out of our fingers in the middle of the night and leave us alone in a dark wood. This old poem of mine reminds me of moments to cherish as the day passes, including those with the man who has been my partner for 45 years. Here’s to another 45, Sam the Snake Man!

___________________

—Medusa
 
 
 
 


 







 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
For upcoming poetry happenings in
Northern California and otherwheres,
click on
UPCOMING NORCAL EVENTS
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in the links at the top of this page—
and keep an eye on this link and on
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—or get changed!—
 during the week.

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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!
 
Snurky
 
LittleSnake’s Glimmer of Hope
(A cookie from the Kitchen for today):

gratitude comes
in splashes
of sunlight on
folded hands—
blessed we are, indeed,
if we can just see it…