Without Lifting A Finger

 

 

My new poem -- "I'm Full" -- is up at The Bookends Review. Give it a whirl and many thanks to the editor, Jordan Blum.

Very rarely does a poetry publication ask me to write about how I came to write a certain poem. Even rarer: I respond. Anyway, stumbled on this tonight, from an early edition of Glassworks . It's not the poem, it's a brief explanation of how I came to write the poem.

Finished Coetzee's The Pole in two days. An easy read. Titillating but hardly "real" and, like all good reads I suppose, leaving you wanting.:) Back to Wordsworth's Guide to the Lake District. I hope I can find a spot to build. Perhaps in the area of the old Roman fort? Or on that cloud-with-a-view WW suggested earlier in the book? WW: Our fancies could not resist the temptation; and we fixed upon a spot for a cottage, which we began to build:* and finished as easily as castles are raised in the air.—

You probably already know: I'm a fan. Got it today and started (but don't think I've given up on Wordsworth: to some extent: he'll guide me through the Lake District). Anyway, a snip from The Pole: ‘Listen to me, Witold,’ she says. ‘You barely know me, so let me tell you who I am. First and last, I am a married woman. Not a free spirit but a woman with a husband and children and a home and friends and commitments of all kinds, emotional commitments, social commitments, practical commitments. There is no room in my life for—what shall I call it?—an affair of the heart. You tell me you carry around with you an image of me. Good. But I don’t carry around an image of you. I don’t carry around an image of anyone. I am not that kind of person. You visited Barcelona, you gave a piano recital, which we all enjoyed; we had dinner together; and that was that. You passed into my life, you passed out of my life. Terminado. We have no future together, you and I. I am sorry to say so...

  Posted yesterday on my Instagram feed (rlswihart13): Ring-necked Pheasant @ WK Kellogg Bird Sanctuary. Beautiful birds. Didn't know till now that they were originally introduced from Asia. Happy Monday!!!♥️🎈 #rlswihart13 #wkkelloggbirdsanctuary #kalamazoo #pheasant #ringneckedpheasant #nature #beauty #poetry  #readmorepoetry2023 #ukraine 🇺🇦🎈

Redtailed Hawks @ WK Kellogg Bird Sanctuary near Kalamazoo MI. Probably about six individuals, from young to old, several with obvious wing problems. These two shared a "cage" and were perhaps the most lively. Hard to be a redtail if you can't fly. TGIF. #rlswihart13 #michigan #tgif #kalamazoo #kelloggbirdsanctuary #redtailsofinstagram #redtailedhawk hawks #nature #beauty #poetry #readmorepoetry2023 #ukraine 🇺🇦 🎈

Going to the Lake District soon (God willing). Haven't been since 1987. Thought it would be fun to read Wordsworth's Guide.:) Excerpt on climate: It may now be proper to say a few words respecting climate, and ‘skiey influences,’* in which this region, as far as the character of its landscapes is affected by them, may, upon the whole, be considered fortunate. The country is, indeed, subject to much bad weather, and it has been ascertained that twice as much rain falls here as in many parts of the island; but the number of black drizzling days, that blot out the face of things, is by no means proportionally great. Nor is a continuance of thick, flagging, damp air, so common as in the West of England and Ireland. The rain here comes down heartily, and is frequently succeeded by clear, bright weather,* when every brook is vocal, and every torrent sonorous; brooks and torrents, which are never muddy, even in the heaviest floods, except, after a drought, they happen to be defiled fo...

It would be difficult to explain why and whither ants whose heap has been destroyed are hurrying: some from the heap dragging bits of rubbish, larvae, and corpses, others back to the heap, or why they jostle, overtake one another, and fight, and it would be equally difficult to explain what caused the Russians after the departure of the French to throng to the place that had formerly been Moscow. But when we watch the ants round their ruined heap, the tenacity, energy, and immense number of the delving insects prove that despite the destruction of the heap, something indestructible, which though intangible is the real strength of the colony, still exists; and similarly, though in Moscow in the month of October there was no government no churches, shrines, riches, or houses--it was still the Moscow it had been in August. All was destroyed, except something intangible yet powerful and indestructible. The motives of those who thronged from all sides to Moscow after it had been cleared of ...

Eastern Kingbirds in Jackson MI. Perching on fallen oak branches in the morning sun. Have a safe & fun Labor Day. Don't go back to school.:)🎈♥️ #rlswihart13 #jacksonmi #brownslakerd #fallenoak #pasture #morninglight #laborday #2023 #kingbirdsofinstagram #easternkingbird #lifer #nature #poetry #beauty #walking #readmorepoetry2023 #ukraine🇺🇦🎈♥️

Another Session with the Cedar Waxwings @ Jackson College. Like having my own pets. Jackson MI. #rlswihart13 #jacksonmi #jacksoncollege #aroundthepond #waxwings #cedarwaxwings #birdsofsummer #nature #beauty #poetry #readmorepoetry2023 #ukraine 🇺🇦🎈

Early in the morning of the sixth of October Pierre went out of the shed, and on returning stopped by the door to play with a little blue-gray dog, with a long body and short bandy legs, that jumped about him. This little dog lived in their shed, sleeping beside Karataev at night; it sometimes made excursions into the town but always returned again. Probably it had never had an owner, and it still belonged to nobody and had no name. The French called it Azor; the soldier who told stories called it Femgalka; Karataev and others called it Gray, or sometimes Flabby. Its lack of a master, a name, or even of a breed or any definite color did not seem to trouble the blue-gray dog in the least. Its furry tail stood up firm and round as a plume, its bandy legs served it so well that it would often gracefully lift a hind leg and run very easily and quickly on three legs, as if disdaining to use all four. Everything pleased it. Now it would roll on its back, yelping with delight, now bask in the...