nature
Puddle Wonderful
There are so many things I love, few things more than a fabulous sun shower….
April is National Poetry Month, so I’m sharing words in a different way.
There was only one crayon
I liked in the whole box,
a cracked black Crayola,
and I settled beside a coloring book —
gray outlines on white pages, scribbling
until I noticed Grandma pulling on
walking shoes, heavy
with stiff laces, brown like snakes.
Down the shaded walk I followed
until the lawn stopped
and weeds grew wild, sloppy and carefree.
Gardening gloves parted prickly shoots
to step inside, swallowed
I followed, tripped on rocks
and roots, got stuck
on sticky burrs while Grandma cooed
soft water words
wintergreen
witch hazel
windflowers
words which sounded like colors
from my crayon box, words
which until then I thought strange and
separate from me.
Later, I took my crayons outside, filled
my lap with colors
drew giant spotted, all-color polka dotted
butterflies, purple and red winged smears
dipping and soaring, winding, rising transparent
as April air, until one little one
found its way above gnarled branches
and swirled
right off the page.
What are you looking forward to this Spring?
Last week I wrote a piece “On Sons & Thunderstorms.” Several people commented that they liked the line “puddling with joy.” That made me smile because I actually borrowed that line from myself. In fact, that piece was inspired by a poem I wrote a long time ago. I thought I would share it with you.
What is a Sun Shower?
the heavy too-sweet scent of
woman’s perfume dribbling from gray skies
or a bumblebee, fat and
zig-zagging through air, cutting the
wetness with buzzing certainty;
a black string pulled too tight, too
tight to
the b r e a k i n g p o i n t, expectant with
tension, an invisible pulse or
heartbeat crashing around ears and
trees. too close when your teeth buzz, it is
too far when you are trapped in bed, sweet yellow galoshes squeezed in a dark closet.
it is luck before a wedding,
a bath for my umbrella.
nothing more than G-d’s tears.
nothing less than the earth gone mint-chocolate mud, gurgling,
and puddling
with joy.
What makes you puddle with joy?