April prompt #15

April prompt #15

Write a poem that doesn’t make any sense (non-sequitors, nonsense, stream of consciousness)

then, rewrite the poem to make sense of it.

Kari’s #2

 

Thanks a bunch, Kari.  Just what I need —to focus

on the mess in my head. Grandson with croup,

no birthday party tomorrow, postponed.

Find somebody who can use the wait do

I want to spread manure today and why

is he crabby already I know it’s

not anything and I’m almost out of

birdseed but the bears and the sun is shinging

just keep the fingers moving on the keyboard

looking out the window at the light a

good day out there but i should edge the flower

beds and have to write this poem before I

do aything but it’s okay cause it’s

cold outside and I’d reather work in the

sunlight why does it make me so mad to

read other people’s arguments on face-

book and why do I even bother I

wanted to see that opera but it wans’t

meant to be and now I can rescheudle

that coffee so that’s a good thing I ought

to go up to rt.7 and check out the

restaurant but I don’t want to do that

today because i need to get my hadns

int the dirk why is my keyboard doing t

his weire thing with ys and spaces probably

because I rest my hands too low and they hti

the and anyway I need to get a

drink of water or maybe acoffee

but it’s too early I’ve run out of stream.

is my brain settling in? who knows.

Does it ever?

 

 

GIFTS OF THE MORNING

 

Sunshine, no wind. Goldfinches

coming to finish the last of the seed.

 

Time to put my fingers down into the dirt,

time to clear out the debris of winter,

 

sticks and dead leaves, all the scattered

hulls of things. I will have earth

 

under my nails again, for my peace.

Last year, this day, I had no peace. My heart

 

ached with the grandchild aching

to be born, his mother laboring.

 

Waiting with my son at the lip

of change. It happened.

 

It was well. And through

the space of loving, I am free.

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