New Year’s Observation
from the Bench
A spring and summer,
a fall, has come and gone
and still it hangs
tangled in the branches—
a white grocery sack
torn into pieces,
making it both simpler
and more difficult
to bring down.
—L. Willingham Lindquist
Photo by Jenny Downing, Creative Commons license via Flickr.
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Read a poem a day, become a better poet. In January, we’re exploring the theme Doors and Passageways.
Director of Many Things; Senior Editor, Designer and Illustrator at Tweetspeak Poetry
I used to be a claims adjuster, helping people and insurance companies make sense of loss. Now, I train other folks with ladders and tape measures to go and do likewise. Sometimes, when I’m not scaling small buildings or crunching numbers with my bare hands, I read Keats upside down. My first novel, Adjustments, is available now.
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Maureen Doallas says
A really fine poem!
I love how your poetry has developed over this past year, Lyla. Thank you for all you do to make TSP a success. I especially appreciate your wonderful humor and that you let me make poems of your prose.
Looking forward to continuing the journey.
L. Willingham Lindquist says
Thanks, Maureen. 🙂 It’s been great to learn alongside such fine poets and writers. And I love the poems you make. Here’s to a wonderful 2014. 🙂
Laura Brown says
New Year’s Observation From the Branch
Cat food and Kleenex from store to home,
lunch and newspaper from home to work,
empty containers from work to car—
I carried those before the wind
carried me to this tree, speared
and wreathed with leaves
that tickled and patted and shielded and scratched
and fell off and left me naked up here.
I’m no good for carrying any more
than air, which brought me here
and might again take me down
or sail me higher.
L. L. Barkat says
oh, fun, Laura, to switch perspectives! 🙂
I especially like the end.
Lyla Lindquist says
Oh, I love that last part too. 🙂
Rosanne Osborne says
http://poetryhawk.blogspot.com/2014/01/resolve.html
Marcy Terwilliger says
It’s words in a heap at my feet today,
which ones will I pick and choose?
How will they spill out of my soul,
does anyone bother to choose?
For me it’s the most natural thing to do,
ponder each day writing something to say.
Real soul words, refined offerings that lead you to pathways that have a panorama
view or sparkling seas.
Splashes of color like sunsets or rainbows,
a kaleidoscope of words so intense it gives you pause.
Timeless, unmistakable, unforgettable words that utterly leave you saying “Wow.”
Are my words witty, warm, funny and unique?
What is it that you think?
If they were a best seller today,
what would your thoughts about me say?
These are the questions a writer reflects on though out the day.
Pondering their writings, wondering what to say.