Monday, November 2, 2015

Monday Praises

Beyond the park and pond,
the Calumet River runs
under dark brown banks
alligatored like home's backdoor,
like legs of an ancient snapper.

The water runs two ways:
with the current, mostly,
but sometimes counter,
leaves and ripples going otherwise,
following the wind.

Watching, I, who claimed car trouble
as excuse for skipping church,
find praises on my lips
and a squirrel drawing near,
as if I were a certain saint.

4 comments:

  1. I like this a lot! You make excellence seem effortless!

    Two questions: In the third stanza, should there be a "d" at the end of "car trouble"?

    Also, in the third stanza, I read "a certain saint" and begin to wonder (like my friend Miriam), Why not tell us which saint?

    The poem otherwise (especially that first stanza!) is unimpeachable. Brava!

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    Replies
    1. Thanks, Tom! Ugh, that "d" slipped through. Funny how the mind sometimes misses things.
      I like "certain" saint because of its multiple meanings. It's alluding to a particular saint (Francis), yes, but also works in different ways in a protestant context. Since protestants tend to believe that all Christians are saints, certain here can mean "sure" (as in "a saint [believer] for sure" and/or as "a saint who is sure [of something]). I hope that makes sense :)

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    2. Yes, it makes perfect sense! In fact, in the late 1980s I once wrote a (shaky) poem with the title "For a Certain Poet," an elegy for a Boston poet who had died. This man was gifted with a certain grace of language, and also had very definite opinions -- of which he was "certain"! So, yes, I can now see the word in a more favourable light!

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  2. "Alligatored" -- what a fantastic verb! This is yet another wonderfully imaged poem. I so enjoy your work, dear heart.

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