All of us, post-storm cold morning
In the tiny cabin. Pups cozy in kennels
Till almost eight—when Jess runs them to the big pen
And starts up the garden gen—power for this keyboard.
Tap tap tap in the old, cold lean-to that is my office.
Cassidy’s soft laugh from the kitchen. Sounds of sink:
Soapy water, plates, mugs, forks, mason jars, caps, lids.
Soon I will smell cinnamon buns.
Levi stretches in front of the propane stove
That only he and Jack can manage to light.
The usual talk of politics, vehicles, food, weather.
Tea for four. Coffee for one. Half and half and honey gone.
Internet purrs along in rhythm with the gen–so far from town
Where three of us head for work, for chemo, for art class.
Levi instead to the nearby ranch where he hauls hay, wrestles
Puppies and piglets and harvests even more tomatoes.
I remain here alone with pups, azure sky, palpable gratitude.
Finally walking, I’ll hang out laundry in the cold fall sun
Can quarts of applesauce before their happy return.
I like the sounds, scents, and rhythm of your poem. You’ve captured your morning beautifully! All the lovely sensations of the present moment are “so far” from town and other concerns.
(I hope everyone is well.)
Thanks, Carmen. It was one of the moments when the poem found me. May Sarton once wrote that prose is earned, poetry is given, and that has always held true for me. My husband is responding well to cancer treatment, and that has definitely made us more grateful for every day and every person in our family. The grown up kids are around a lot more–taking care of us–which is a poignant and often amusing role reversal.
The poem found you, and you were exceptionally receptive! I’m glad to hear that your husband is responding well to his cancer treatment, and that you are blessed with the caring presence of your family. Take care.
Lovely! A wonderful reminder to appreciate what we have, and revel in the moment. Very happy for you (all)!
Thank you, Irene. I was trying to capture a spontaneous, happy moment of family.