We who with songs beguile your pilgrimage / And swear that Beauty lives though lilies die, / We Poets of the proud old lineage / Who sing to find your hearts, we know not why ... (James Elroy Flecker)

3.11.24

Days of thunder


always sudden —

I unplug modem, devices.


(Modem’s new.

Earlier storm 

killed the last.)


Few chances 

to share poems online

though I still write. 


Silver lining:

time


to find them.



In response to Friday Writings #151 at Poets and Storytellers United, where Magaly invites us to be inspired by Mary Oliver's poem,  “The Uses of Sorrow”: 

Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness. 

It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift. 

Admittedly, the 'darkness' in my poem is more in the nature of an inconvenience. But I had trouble thinking of any darkness I've experienced which was also a gift. I guess it takes me even longer than it did Mary.