Wednesday, January 16, 2013

A Good Poem

The whole of what I know
about writing a good poem
would fit into a doll’s teacup.
But I do know what a good poem
can do.  

A good poem can remind you
of the sound your spoon makes
clinking against the bowl
as you scoop out your morning cereal
and bring it to your mouth
to eat

and a good poem can show you
the slick feel of the spoon itself
as it slides against your tongue and
the rich touch of light
on the leaves of a green geranium
while you chew and contemplate
the sweet sacred rhythm
of plants.

A good poem can hold up to you
the quiet of the bare trees
as they stand very still
not resisting the constant weather
or the snow against their bark,
content, it seems,
to wait inside their shells
for the warmth of the dear spring
and not try to be anywhere, 
not anywhere
but here.

And a good poem can bring you
a few gifts from mother earth
now displayed together
on a corner of my big desk
in a small corner of my world:
the carefully woven nest
of a long-gone bird,
the lifeless body of a black-winged dragonfly,
the smooth, gray stones and
tiny blue robin’s egg,
reddish rattling pods and
oversized pine cones
and mostly the big old hawk feather;
gifts which now,
because of this good poem,
are in your world, too.


  1. Very Nice Suzanne, It did all those things for me.

  2. You're like my biggest fan, Dave! Thanks for commenting. I actually changed the last line - it was bugging me on the way to work this morning, so I fixed it.

    Hope all is well in your corner of the universe.

    1. i just connect with your writing more than most others writing. its rare for me to find someone who speaks my language. Dont know if thats a good thing. ha, things are good over in this world. peace