Friday, June 12, 2009

The Ordinary

by Kirsten Dierking

It's summer, so
the pink gingham shorts,
the red mower, the neat rows
of clean smelling grass
unspooling behind
the sweeping blades.

A dragonfly, black body
big as a finger, will not leave
the mower alone,
loving the sparkle
of scarlet metal,
seeing in even a rusting paint
the shade of a flower.

But I wave him off,
conscious he is
wasting his time,
conscious I am
filling my time
with such small details,
distracting colors,

like pink checks,
like this, then that,
like a dragonfly wing
in the sun reflecting
the color of opals,
like all the hours
we leave behind,
so ordinary,
but not unloved.

please note: pottery by Cathy Michelsen

7 comments:

  1. This one was especially beautiful, and so striking the way you used the pottery as accent. Loved it.

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  2. Beautiful poem, love that you likened dragonfly wins to opals. Love the pottery too!

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  3. There is something so comforting in the ordinary.

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  4. During my trip to the Land of the Luddites and since jetlagged state of return, I have missed the occasional post. Nevertheless, in a state of utter fatigue at 7pm last night, I seem to recall your having mentioned my blog, among others with a nod. Just wanted to say thank you while I was still conscious!

    Amitiés,

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  5. Love this, especially the last few lines...

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  6. Lovely, soothing, and I can smell the fresh-cut grass. Could you pass that glass of lemonade? Thanks!

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  7. Wow, I absolutely love that! "So ordinary but not unloved." Perfect, volumes spoken in those few words... :)

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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)