Monday, November 14, 2005

Chilly morning

The ebullient kettle is eager for tea
And so am I
This slow, dry morning

The remaining leaves lap
Against the foundation
In the irritable wind

Sit with me like a deep breath
Bring a biscuit or two
And we'll catch up on news

No small talk, please,
I want to know
About your recent dreams

Look how the steam rises
And dances for us
Lifting the veil

In years we have changed little
I remember tea in your mother's dark kitchen
Drinking poetry with honey from green glass

Now we rest our elbows on the cloth
You a wrinkled raisin
Me a wrinkled cashew

As the days hitch up their skirts
For the numbing slog
Through winter's icy waters

I look for extra warmth
Burrowed in a velvet scarf
Or your hazel eyes

The sun just popped free of clouds
This could be any moment
But I'm dreaming this one, with you

Written for the word of the day, ebullient, at Poem of the Day.


Blogger Mary said...

Two poems, two delights, today on my return from work. Thank you moose. Both reflecting a joy in life and in the natural world that is so uplifting. (But I somehow doubt that you are a wrinkled cashew? :-))

11/14/2005 11:20 AM  
Blogger Stranger Ken said...

Mary has it right, I think. There's a real warmth and pleasure in the moment here. A defiance of the wintry weather, too? A lovely piece.

11/14/2005 4:05 PM  
Blogger Dale said...

Oh, that's lovely.

11/14/2005 5:13 PM  
Blogger Patry Francis said...

I love the eager, ebullient teapot. In your world, even inanimate objects leap at the new day.

11/14/2005 7:57 PM  
Blogger garnet david said...

moose- this is wonderful. you slip back and forth from metaphor to real, without being contrived. smooth!

(poetry carnival 7 is underway at Glitter Lane)

11/14/2005 11:31 PM  
Blogger Amy said...

There is so much life in this poem--an "ebullient" teapot, the wind, a breath, rising steam, the sun "popped free of clouds." The warm comfort is inside; the threatening wind and "numbing slog" are outside. I am intriqued about who the "other" is with the hazel eyes.

11/15/2005 9:23 AM  
Blogger MB said...

Mary, thank you. Does the cashew image seem too comical? It's intended as humorous, perhaps it goes too far for balance. I kind of like it, though.

Ken, definitely defiance of wintry weather! Winter is a-cumin in and I'm not at all sure I'm ready.

Dale, thank you for visiting. I'm glad you enjoyed this.

Patry, ay, that they may. I recall even as a small child wondering what stories stones and trees could tell if they had voices to speak.

Garnet, that's high praise. Thank you so much.

Amy, thank you for speaking to the life in the poem. That aspect is important to me, and I'm pleased you saw it. The "other" I suppose could be anyone the reader might like to slip into the poem. In my case, it's an old childhood friend.

11/15/2005 10:01 AM  
Blogger Mary said...

Moose: No not too comical: it's just not how I imagine you in my mind's eye! And I am extremely fond of cashews I might add .... wrinkled or otherwise :-)

11/15/2005 12:28 PM  

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