Meditation By The Stove Poem by Linda Pastan
I have banked the firesof my bodyinto a small but steady blazehere in the kitchenwhere the dough has a life of its own,breathing under its damp clothlike a sleeping child;where…
I have banked the firesof my bodyinto a small but steady blazehere in the kitchenwhere the dough has a life of its own,breathing under its damp clothlike a sleeping child;where…
In the worst hour of the worst season of the worst year of a whole peoplea man set out from the workhouse with his wife.He was walking β they were…
It wasn't bliss. What was bliss but the ordinary life? She'd spend hours in patter, moving through whole days touching, sniffing, tasting . . . exquisite housekeeping in a charmed…
My husband gives me an Afor last night's supper, an incomplete for my ironing, a B plus in bed.My son says I am average, an average mother, but ifI put…
Said a lightning bug to a firefly,'Look at the lightning bugs fly by!''Silly dunce!' said the fly. 'What bug ever flew?Those are fireflies. And so are you.''Bug!' cried the bug.…
So when my proud city spreadher gypsy skirts, I reentered;she burned a greater, constant light.Call me rough, ill-tempered, slovenly- I tell you,every tenderness I have ever knownhas been nothingbut thwarted…
Some sayit was a pearEve ate.Why else the shapeof the womb,or of the celloWhose single song is grieffor the parent tree?Why else the fruit itselftawny and sweetwhich your loverover breakfastlets…
Speak earth and bless me with what is richestmake sky flow honey out of my hipsrigis mountainsspread over a valleycarved out by the mouth of rain.And I knew when I…
The gathering familythrows shadows around us,it is the late afternoonOf the family.There is still enough lightto see all the way back,but at the windowsthat light is wasting away.Soon we will…
After Adam ZagajewskiI am child to no one, mother to a few,wife for the long haul.On fall days I am happywith my dying brethren, the leaves,but in spring my head…