Lists

Today is a day of lists:

return library books

board meeting 

mail statements 

grocery shopping:

  -meat

  -carrots

  -cinnamon

  -oats

  -Athlete’s Foot cream

  -sympathy cards…

for it is also a week of deaths:

agonies, endings

and the requisite attending

social conventions…

4 sympathy cards

1 wake

1 funeral

1 meal for grieving family

1 batch of cookies for grieving family

because after all, food really is love

or at least the only solace

we can figure

But poetry is solace too,

and this is the month of poems

so to the list I add

30 poems for April -

and for today

I sneak away
for one
entire
poem

This is for day #1 of PAD (Poem a Day) for April, National Poetry Month.  I'm linking it to the Imaginary Garden, because "lists" are not what sparks my poetic heart, but poetry is what saves me.  

Questions of Identity

1. Who are you and whom do you love?  That's what MarinaSofia asked us at dVerse.  

I love my family and friends, of course,

and I love things unseen, spirits and souls, Creator

I love trees and flowers, oceans,

skies, rocks and autumn,

new snow – but not in March,

fresh spring mornings

sunsets and sunrises all year long.

I love horses, dogs, cats,

and my particular dogs and cats,

Otis, Rusty, Emma, Maggie, Chevy, Lars, Dante, Frank

and all the others.

(Yes, I know I didn't list the people.  Don't read too much into that)

I love elephants,

just about all mammals,

lovely snakes and reptiles,

and flying and travel,

drawing and painting,

music – but not all music,

the smell of fresh bread, cinnamon, lilacs,

solid things,

and also liquid

and ethereal things.

I love the smell of new, clean babies.

I love stars

and I love the blue-black night

that surrounds them,

and I love the moon especially.

And I love tiny frogs and fireflies,

and laying on a big, flat rock after dark

on a cool summer night

and feeling the warmth radiating from it,

warming me though.

I love the smell of wood smoke,

the feel of flannel against my skin,

 and cashmere and silk for that matter.

I love the way little children draw,

before they have been taught

that drawing is hard.

And I love riding very fast

on a strong, dark horse,

the feel of the reins in my hands,

saddle leather against my legs,

 and the motion beneath me.

And I love baths,

very warm steamy baths.

I love Sunday mornings

in bed with strong coffee

and the crossword,

newspaper pages scattered

across the bed,

sun streaming in.

I love the blues and greens of the ocean,

and color…vivid, soft, psychedelic, muted,

and black and white,

and form and line and shadows…

I love shadows.

And I love very cold beer,

and dry red wine

and silver earrings

and “I am not really a waitress” nail polish,

and men,

I do love men.

And women,

and men in kilts,

and men in bowties,

because bowties are cool.

I love umbrellas – red umbrellas,

and rain and thunder and lightning…

I love starting.

I love books and reading and writing

and words.  I am in love with words.

And trains… I love trains,

and toast, and dragons and…

Well, I've sort of gone off the rails here, haven't I? I can’t seem to get past who and what I love in the questions of identity.  There is just so very much cool and lovable stuff in this amazing universe!  And I love that you've read this, even though it's not exactly a poem but more of a list.