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To that end,  a few April poems from my effort to stay up on National Poetry Writing Month (Napowrimo website).   Fair warning, this month will be taken up by this (and probably a few asides). I hope you’ll stick with me. I’m sure there will be hats somewhere.

From April 2 Smudge

I churn the smoke around the house
churlish curls to drive out other demons
tripping over your detritus, like a mouse
left by my cat, but not from love.

I only want you to dissipate
like the wisps of  longing that still cling
to my palate.

Here we find an article of clothes
stuffed in a drawer, mistook for mine?
then shoes and sweaters, socks in droves
misplaced or purposefully lingering.

A beached great white garbage bag fills.
Every jar and jambit of the frig examined
bits of our passionate appetites
with a due date past their prime, it all goes.

I only want to cling to you.
though you may be a mock that stills
to my recollection.

From April 4 Vegetable-arian
the many rows of peas are never enough
this year I’m soaking them their rough
skins smooth out after imbibing tea.
A day or so of steeping and they’re ready
for the rough ground —  the cold grave drilled
from a composted bed.

kale and her sister chard wave wayward in the April chill
we’ve netted them, to keep the squirrels
at bay, til we discover, twittering about the yard
bright finches with their small, fine beaks
flit between the meshed interstices,
gossiping and having lunch.

the tomatoes are just a dream in envelopes.
I saved out seeds, imagining the heavy globes
of fruit still savoring the sun, the vegetal musk –
bruised tomato leaf lingering
lightly on the fingertips – I kiss them
the globes, the tips, the chard, the lips.

We are the only two in Eden.

 

Linda

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