Bio Note: Spring is springing, and with it flowers and life and all that stuff, and these poems reflect that appreciation for living. They can all be found in my collection, Moraine. (Ten Daffodils in a Pasta Sauce Jar appeared on A Year of Being Here as The Way Sunshine Smells.) What Now Is Like also appeared previously on A Year of Being Here and Braided Way.
What Now Is Like
Let’s go see what Now is like outside. Let’s open the door look up at the sky feel the cold night air on our noses. Let’s look at our breath as we walk out to the street. Let’s look at how Now holds the moon in black branches, how stars shine down with a Now from long long ago, how they stare down on our Now which has coaxed them to wink at us. Let’s listen to the night sounds that rove the dark Now beneath the traffic. Let’s stop, look back into the Now at the end of the street; there is something there but I know it is behind us in a place called Then where our footprints have forgotten we ever made them.
In early spring unseen beyond green- threaded sycamores, geese announce their flight. It’s hard, this getting up and walking out, this making use of a brilliant morning. But the birds’ excited voices full of plans and portent take me back to autumn, when they flew over the field where we walked among blown and withered leaves; they passed low above us and we saw their downy bellies. Beneath their harsh cries we heard the feathered machinery of their flight and I forgot for a moment the painful creaking of my knees, so like the trees’ complaints as they move their limbs aside, making way for wind.
Ten Daffodils in a Pasta Sauce Jar
You gave up your moment of prime to brighten this cluttered kitchen table. Yellow lovelies, I am honored to have you here. Outside you’d just be yet another bit of the great flowering world, but in this kitchen, among the papers, the bottles, even the bananas growing tired in the bowl, you are amazement itself. Outside among the orange blossoms, the roses the sweet alyssum, your light scent would be lost. With you here, the morning kitchen becomes a festival of fragrance – you are the way sunshine smells.
©2021 Tamara Madison
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