Friday, May 27, 2011

For Now

I had given up on spring
when you called me to the
kitchen window to show me
the orioles in the quince bush,
like small brilliant suns -
buoyant and cheerful.


Watching them,
I tried not to think
about the mountain birds,
with their dark shiny eyes
like tiny glass marbles,
and their somber evening calls
heard from clear across the river –
where they roosted shadowy
in the branches of the redbud,
some missing parts of their
hind wings or tails,
proving that life is hard
in the upper Alleghenies.


Even on this dismal,
cool and rainy spring morning,
I’ll not think about the cold
that got inside of me there –


For now,
I’ll take pleasure in
our delight of the orioles,
so busy with the quince blossoms,
they hardly notice
our smiling faces at the window -
or our love for them that leaps
and bounds from somewhere deep.

10 comments:

trooping with crows said...

Mom! So good to see a new poem...especially this one.
Oh, what can I say, Mom? This one
PROFOUNDLY captures the beauty of spring after a hard, dark winter.
The dark eyed mountain birds definitly trapped me in there glare. I like how you have used birds to illustrate two separate attitudes and states of mind here.
Glad I got to share "my" orioles with you! Remember how they followed me to your house??

K.Lawson Gilbert said...

I do remember how they followed you here. I haven't seen them since, so they must have gone back home with you as well.

Now is the winter of our discontent...
And all the clouds that lowered upon our house
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

Pray that it be so.

Thanks for sharing your orioles - which means thanks for being you.
<3

trooping with crows said...

PS...
Forgot to say that I love your new pic! Also, in my comment I meant
"their glare" not "there glare"
Must have had a baby screaming in my ear or chewing on my finger! lol

Karen said...

It's nice to read you again -- after this long, hard winter. Your verse always creates a mood and takes us inside ourselves to our common experience. Hope the spring overhadows your winter of discontent.

K.Lawson Gilbert said...

Riss - LOL! I know what you mean! Oh, and thanks. Emily took that picture at the Butternut Gallery.

Hey Karen, thanks for stopping by. So far, spring has been very strange...but, then again - it could be me.....

Bob said...

Beautiful and emotive... and good to see you back writing, I've really missed your work, Kaye.

K.Lawson Gilbert said...

Bob - you are so dear to me. Thank you, friend.

Okie Prof said...

Welcome back, missed your vision.

Wish I had it for the most recent post of mine abotu ghosts....

I kept wondering, "I wonder how Kay would write this?"

Rick said...

Hello K! Sorry to have been away so long, but I was busy putting together the first issue of White Cat Magazine (www.whitecatpublications.com).

Nice to be back to read this exceptionally fine poem. It's a treasure I will come back to again and again.

Mr. Neibauer said...

I have always loved poems where the writer is looking at something, yet the REAL imagery comes from within...a memory of before, or just a thought, linked to what is being observed. It takes talent to blend these two into one succinct poem: you have done it! Well done!

I am excited to read more.

http://undiscoveredpoems.blogspot.com/