For Sunday Whirl: Wordle #294
slack, can, undo, cheer, single, vent,
handle, strap, shell, line, trim, grin
For Sunday’s Whirligig: Wordle #107
noon, stone, scene, waited, desert, flute,
farther, hard, panting, without, elbows, could
Poets United: Poetry Pantry #348
Who am I to receive this gift
of years, while others have not?
Stone moments stacked up like wood
in a pile, loose chips scattered
on surrounding ground.
These call to me like far-off flute music
whispering through a dreamscape scene, begging me
to sit with bent elbows, to quietly contemplate
poems written, images created and colored.
Other times, concerning things that can’t
be undone, some that make me grin, want
to cheer having been so blessed, and all
that lies between.
Before noon, they’ll come to get me,
bring me to their celebration, and I will
comply, will join them. Inwardly knowing
that shortly, I will return to tend small wood fire
that has kept me warm, kept me breathing
for seventy-one years.
Elizabeth Crawford 4/9/2017
Notes: Lucille Clifton wrote a birthday poem each year. I have always admired her tenacity. I’ve done only a few (three or four). Although I gathered the word lists, I only blew a kiss at them, using less than half. Somehow, 71 makes me feel both victorious and fragile, all at the same time.
Image is a photograph of a bonfire in my sister’s backyard.