Beyond the glass, the lattice ledge
where yesterday, crumbs lured a row of sparrows;
Pierre’s broom swinging left and right
against the midday blur of passing cars;
the sweep of dogwood: yellow twigs above the last grey stretch
of melting snow where just a week ago
playing figures slid above their unseen blades.
Horizontal: this day
of flattened thoughts, this codeine-couch,
this careful line of knots
that trace the scalpel’s
thin red path.
(Not to worry - I'm recuperating after some dental surgery this morning. It hurts a lot right now, but everything went well.)
Bonne santé, Beth! Hope your dental problems are over now.
xxx
Posted by: Natalie | March 19, 2009 at 10:05 PM
Hey, nice to see you posting poems here! I like the last lines.
I just recorded some swan music for you. It's here.
Posted by: Dave | March 19, 2009 at 10:32 PM
It's a dedicated poet who finds beauty in dental surgery!
Posted by: Anne Gibert | March 19, 2009 at 10:33 PM
Oh, dear, I hate dental surgery. And codeine. But I love your poem. Feel better.
Posted by: Kaycie | March 19, 2009 at 11:41 PM
I liked the second stanza particularly. Keep it up.
Posted by: mary mccloskey | March 20, 2009 at 10:14 PM
Kia ora Beth,
Pretty cool for being Horizontal. Love the poem. Hope you feel better soon. Kia kaha.
Cheers,
Robb
Posted by: Robb | March 21, 2009 at 12:12 AM
oh Beth, wishing you a speedy recovery. I'll send along a few more soft-food recipes I devised over the fall...
Posted by: elizabeth | March 21, 2009 at 02:35 AM
xoxo
Posted by: dale | March 22, 2009 at 01:09 AM
Out of pain, a thing of craft and delicacy. A fine poem, Beth.
Posted by: Dick | March 22, 2009 at 05:03 AM