As a writer, I try to read a poem-a-day...So admiring of the form - the rich choice of words/imagery, the cadence, the compression of ideas. It's not easy to write a great poem, but this one reads perfect!
Some days the pond
wears a glaze of yellow pollen.
Some days it is
clean-swept.
The trout leap up, feasting on insects.
A modest size, it
sits
like a soup tureen in a surround of white
pine where Rosie, 14
lbs., some sort
of rescued terrier, part bat
(the ears), part
anteater (the nose),
shyly paddles in the shallows
for salamanders,
frogs
and little painted turtles. She logged
ten years down south in a
kennel, secured
in a crate at night. Her heart murmur
will carry her
off, no one can say when.
Meanwhile she is rapt in
the moment, our
hearts leap up observing.
Dogs live in the moment, pursuing
that
brilliant dragonfly called pleasure.
Only we, sunstruck in this
azure
day, must drag along the backpacks
of our past, must peer into
the bottom muck
of what's to come, scanning the plot
for words that
say another year, or not.
"In the Moment" by Maxine Kumin, from Where I Live. ©
Norton, 2012. Reprinted with permission. (buy now)