Today is lucky 13, the day I finally get back to writing and posting a little poetry! That pesky work has been getting in the way (not really; I’m working on a couple of very enjoyable editing projects, but they do necessarily take precedence over my own writing). I guess I need to manage my time a little differently so I can do both things I love…
Necromancy of the everyday
the dead are not as gone as we think
nor as quiet – their bones rattle
us when we least expect – early
asparagus in the produce aisle, the vigorous
bowing of a double-bass, pipe smoke
drifting from an open window
no incantation can settle our minds’
restless associations, the constant
monkey quest for pattern – past and present
overlaid until the light that shines
through or the shadows that fall
between trigger recognition
(Reposted from the Lexington Poetry Month website: https://lexpomo.com/poem/necromancy-of-the-everyday/)
Storm-downed burr oak leaves at Woodland Park, Lexington
The Daily Compost 
Very nice!!!
Thanks – for reading and for commenting! 🙂
So many great phrases! Did Uncle Henry smoke a pipe?
Thanks! Yes he did, for a bit, as did my father, also only for a bit. Didn’t your dad at one time as well, or am I misremembering things again? 😉
Ah, okay! No, my dad never did. I thought maybe his dad had, but no, I’m told he didn’t. Remember those wonderful walking sticks Sue and Henry had?!
I don’t remember any walking sticks, but then again I mostly saw my grandparents at home: theirs, ours, or Denzel and Deanna’s. I’d love to hear about them, though! Isn’t it funny what we remember about people and why?
Wonderful poem and photo! Thanks Jennifer.
Thanks, Carla! I’ve been trying to take more pictures and use them in my posts, now that I’ve figured out how to use the camera on my phone.