Spring storm and hail of ice cubes
pummels my town and no other.
There was a time when townspeople
would call this fall the wrath of God
or work of witches. A lower profile
may have saved some crones
renowned for bitter herbs, odd dames
you went to in the woods for troubles.
But some would go on being busybodies
and scolds dragged out, dunked, drowned
or hung like limp, forgotten fruit
from gallows trees. Scarecrows and
cautionary tales. And truly the crows
flee from our town screaming
blue murder, scarier than a siren.
Even in these enlightened times,
some of us still go warily,
keeping secret our wild simples,
asking nothing for our quirky blessings.
Dolores Stewart Riccio
from The Nature of Things)
My friend was both a gifted novelist and a fine poet. I miss her.
4 comments:
Exquisite photo, Cate.
That photo certainly caught my attention...great detail of the ice.
That photo shows how fast spring can retreat and winter shove it away.
I saw this photo on Thursday, while in a bit of a rush. Something inside me suggested that I check on it again. On second viewing, I am struck with how nature provides such exquisite moments. Thank you for sharing in your daily offering of a meditative moment.
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