AprPAD: Day 25

 

Writing After James Schuyler’s “Hymn to Life” –
He and I in a Square

I watch the day go by through the kitchen window. A yellow car drives by as I wash the breakfast dishes. I keep walking by things that need doing. Clean the cooker grates, I tell myself, and then I walk on by, and think, dust the top of the fridge, and then I walk on by, repeat, repeat, and forget all about it. Do I need a to-do list? And now to vacuum up all the steel-cut oatmeal that he just spilled on the floor. His tomato plants are here. Also bought vegetable seedlings online. And fuchsias. Richard, the postman, brings them to the front door; rings the bell; steps back. It’s a covid thing. Says he’s keeping well, keeping healthy. I’m glad. He’s like family. See him every day. See him more often than our own family. Always in a grey shirt, shorts and hiking boots. Even in the winter. Wet trousers — they’re a shivering misery, Richard says. Do I already have a to-do list? The smart meter runs endlessly, even though the heating is off until autumn. £2.01 so far today. 3-weeks into April — it’s a burnt-grass month. Sun. Sun. Sun. And a periwinkle close-up sky. The breeze grabs the apple tree, scatters blossoms across the garden. Looks like cryptic messages. Isolate. Same old. Repetition. My neighbour’s husband is dead. A windowless black van with three men in white hazmat suits and plastic visors take him away in a black bag. I wind the clock every Sunday morning. Every Sunday. Wind. Rewind.

 

for NaPoWriMo Day 25.
Writing After James Schuyler’s
“Hymn to Life”

the poem is at click here

 

A Pilgrim Laid Low

I am from tall pines
that crowd the heavens,
not of this thunder
that shuts tight the sky,
that loosens old doors,
and quivers reeds,
and if I were God’s pilgrim
I’d have laid myself down,
low at the faithful’s door.

for PA Day 25: Remix.
Cento form. Remixed from
Victor Hugo’s “The Djinn”

 
 

©️ Misky 2020 It’s Poem a Day month. These are all 1st drafts.

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