Wine and Stories

Monday Morning Afternoon Musings:

^{Passover a few years ago. Lots of wine–and sparkling wine?}

With stories,
we entertain, ascertain, explain the past,
another glass of wine drained, slow or fast–

is it enough? We remember
to forget

how seasons turn, grey to green,
but loved ones gone, remain unseen

like ghosts
white blossoms drift
leaving trails . . .we follow.

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It’s poetry month, and I’m having a hard time getting anything else done between all the poetry writing and reading. So, I’m making my usual Monday Morning Musings very short and combining it with the dVerse quadrille prompt, where Linda asks us to write about wine.

Passover ended yesterday. I celebrated with pasta, garlic bread, and wine. During a traditional Passover Seder (Seder means order), we tell the story of the Exodus and during the course of the night drink four glasses of wine. My family, when we’re together, does a very untraditional Seder, and we drink maybe one, two. . . maybe more. I’m looking forward to seeing them someday soon.

Merril’s Movie Club: We watched Quo Vadis, Aida? It’s Bosnia and Herzegovina’s Oscar entry, and it’s a harrowing and heartbreaking, but also an excellent and nuanced movie. It chronicles the failure of the UN peacekeeping forces and the mass genocide by Serbian army in Srebrenica, as seen through the eyes of UN interpreter. The director said she had been waiting for someone to tell this difficult story, but she finally did so herself, and she does so without relying on showing tons of blood and gore. It’s available to rent on Amazon. We also watched Mank (Netflix). We both enjoyed it. It tells a fictional story of 1930s-1940s Hollywood, and the making of Citizen Kane, centered on Herman J. Mankiewicz, the writer, played by Gary Oldman. I thought Amanda Seyfried as Marion Davies was particularly good.

Dreams Unknotted

“For my part I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.”
–Vincent van Gogh to his brother Theo, 1888

In wavy lines and shimmering spots,
his knotted thoughts, unspooled

the counted crows, a postman, impasto
flowers’ golden glow–

but most of all the stars, not stilled,
the night a colored motion sea–

ripples of what he saw–and dreams of what might be

A quadrille for dVerse, where Mish asked us to use the word “knot.” I read this article today about how after van Gogh’s death, the sale of his paintings—then valuable—paid for his sister Willemien’s care in a mental asylum. I suppose it helped her, but I also felt it was so tragic that she spent decades—almost forty years–there.

For the Women in My Life: International Women’s Day 2021

Swifter than swifts, the years fly,

time drifts
and shifts
passing dove-soft and eagle-fierce. Cry for

generations lost
mother gone, but sisters here,

my cygnets grown swan-regal; adoring and adored,

I’m fortunate
to have love, wisdom, goodness—

feather-winged treasures, these women,
the bird-goddess sings.

For dVerse, Sarah asks us to use the word swift in a quadrille. It is also International Women’s Day 2021. The theme this year is Choose to Challenge, so this is a small tribute to my mother, sisters, and daughters, who have all challenged life and norms in some way. Ingrid at Experiments in Fiction is doing an International Women’s Day Challenge.

When Winter Goes and Spring Arrives

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  Marc Chagall, Blue Fiddler

She hums with cool beauty,
her whispered notes a silver stream
where trout-stars swim, or so I dream–

roof-fiddler in sky-blue; red-dawn’s flight
through charcoal-grey, the sight
of honeyed light

as winter goes, and now–
flowers color-pop their petal-heads, stand
to say hello

For Quadrille Monday at dVerse, where De asks us to use some form of the word go in a poem of 44 words.

Embrace the Beauty

Ask for bluest sky–
still, the wind will sigh,
fly cold cloud-cover to hover—and yet

the tree will see, embrace
glow-diffused light. A shadow traced
on snow-kissed ground–grace, erased,

hope lost, then found. Seasons entwined,
winter’s signature signed in white-on-green–
beauty seen.

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A quadrille for my prompt at dVerse. The prompt word is “embrace.” A quadrille is a dVerse poetry form, a poem in any style of 44-words. If you’d like, come join us. My photos are doing double-duty.

Dabs of Color and Light

^{A frosty January morning}.

The January sun is slow to rise
she shakes her flaxen head,
then dabs a bit of light—

there some color, bright
against grey, wheat, white,

the silvered-lawn sparkles–behold!

What’s to come? Black crow calls—more cold–
before summer blooms in colors bold.

A quadrille for dVerse, where De asks us to use some form of the word dab.

Such Stuff

^{Odilon Redon, “Flower Clouds”}

“We are such stuff as dreams are made on”
William Shakespeare, The Tempest.

We soar past sleep,
stop to eat

the stars—swallow as they glide,
we abide

outside and within–
of such stuff, our dreams begin

to flutter-float, winging high
to fly upon some glittery boat

then with a quivery sigh,
they drift away, whispering goodbye.

A quadrille for dVerse. Lisa is hosting and asks us to use the word, “abide.”

Space Dancers

^{“However, what it is really exciting about NGC 1097 is that it is not wandering alone through space. It has two small galaxy companions, which dance “the dance of stars and the dance of space” like the gracious dancer of the famous poem The Dancer by Khalil Gibran.” 
Credit: ESA/Hubble & NASA. Acknowledgement: E. Sturdivant}

Somewhere in space, impossibly it seems,
the stars always sing. They bring to rings of light,
celestial rhythm, a chance to dance, a sort of space romance,
a stellar pas de deux.

In whirling-waltz, they swirl possibly unaware,
of sparks flame-shot in incandescent flares.

A quadrille for dVerse, where De has asked us to use some form of the word possible.

Serenity

In shadowed mood, I river-walk
see heron in the gloaming-light,
and deer that shyly peer, then sprint
in white-flashed flight to rock-strewn beach.

Is this happiness, or calm release
of anger stored, of finding peace
in the susurrous wind sighs–
a promise, hope’s rise.

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Lillian has asked us to use the word happy–or some form of it–in a quadrille for dVerse. It usually makes me feel better when I take a walk, and especially if I see “my” heron or some deer.

Spinning

^{Jeremy Harbeck, North Star Bay, Greenland, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons}

Inconstant,
the magnetic north roams

to Siberia
under rocky plates it riffs, shifts, reverses course

in search of answers
we all seek–

but encompass me in moonlight,
(not) polar opposites,

we spin, sing, bodies electric,
attracted, charged,

surging, urging—so, star-dusted cling–
luminosity bring.

A quadrille for dVerse, where De asks us to use some form of the word magnet.