Darkness . Poetry . Wildlife
The Peace of Wild Things Or, How I am Feeling Today
On February 2, 2016 by Speranza When despair for the world grows in me and I wake in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds. I come into the
Full Moon . Poetry
Aware
On January 24, 2016 by Speranza Slowly the moon is rising out of the muddy haze, Divesting herself of her golden shift, and so Emerging white and exquisite; and I in amaze See in the sky before me, a woman I did not know I loved, but there she goes, and her beauty hurts my heart; I follow her down
Poetry . Winter
January
On January 7, 2016 by Speranza Again I reply to the triple winds running chromatic fifths of derision outside my window: Play louder You will not succeed. I am bound more to my sentences the more you batter at me to follow you. And the wind, as before, fingers perfectly its derisive music. William Carlos Williams, 1883-1963 From Sour Grapes (The Four
Poetry
Weathering
On September 11, 2015 by Speranza Literally thin-skinned, I suppose, my face catches the wind off the snow-line and flushes with a flush that will never wholly settle. Well: that was a metropolitan vanity, wanting to look young for ever, to pass. I was never a Pre-Raphaelite beauty nor anything but pretty enough to satisfy men who need to be
Poetry . Self-Esteem
Ode to the Horse
On September 6, 2015 by Speranza
Most of the news at the moment is, I will venture to say, more disturbing that it has been in a long, long time. No, it’s not because of the internet making us all more aware than we were in years previous – it actually IS worse and it’s full-on terrible. I’m almost afraid to keep up – something I don’t even have to worry about actually since The General and his new Mac maintain an informal news-anchor presence at the kitchen table, constantly updating with bulletins from around the world, a trait which I am not used to but have grown to appreciate; however, I still have to walk that fine line between being a responsible adult who knows what’s happening and tries to do The Right Thing and reconciling that with the thin-skinned, highly strung artist-type who lies in bed at 3 am trying to untangle the finer points of European foreign policy after weeping openly at all those abused animal videos I should never have clicked on, hours before.
But I digress.