Another Poetic Improvisation: “White Morning”

Moon-ShadowDecember 29th and the first real snowstorm of the season has finally arrived in the North Country. Enough snow that Sue and I spent the morning not walking but shoveling our suburban driveway. A different kind of exercise.

We live divorced from Nature in so many ways. Big winter storms that should lead us to naturally stay inside where it is safe and warm are ignored so we can go do “work” that could easily be put off to other easier days. We spend summers trying to grow finicky, shallow-rooted grass that does not want to grow where we have planted it and pulling hearty, long-rooted weeds that have merely chosen natural places to grow. We build houses and cities on flood plains and tectonic fault lines. We tell children who naturally want to run and play that they need to sit quietly at desks for hours a day.

In a thousand and one ways we live as if we are not of Nature and that Nature is not of us.

Here is a little improvisational poem.

Enjoy!

 

WHITE MORNING

white morning
black coffee steaming

a dozen crows fly
over empty trees

grey clouds break
over a grey sky

our hearts are blue

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