Perhaps one good start deserves another, perhaps since one is never finished unless dead, each breath is a new start. In that case, how does one ever get ahead? I did just have a lovely luncheon and writing session with my friends Barbara & Florence. Here’s what I wrote:
The Company of Writers
To Barbara & Florence
After the baked potato,
the pat of butter.
After the dark green spinach salad
paranthetical carrots, bits of beet,
two toned hard boiled egg.
After these, the poems come.
Songs of rocks soaked in salty coastal sun
aleveing (is that a word?) the sadness of tasks not done:
“Father forgive me,” for I haven’t a clue.
My commas are profuse, my words will not scan.
After the poems comes dessert.
Swirling cold white vanilla – a mountain
with sliding cocoa trails of chocolate molting
from peak to pond. My guilt assuaged
by the size of your serving.
And then the writing, the hand driven
to pen to track the value of time
spent in your company, my friends.
Like everyone else in the world, I am starting over for this new year. Restarting this blog, restarting another non-profit, restarting the ubiquitous weight loss, exercise and eating habits. Starting to be creative in a more organized fashion: Painter, Writer, Poet, Spy. Well, that’s a bit melodramatic, but all starts and restarts have to be leavened with humor or they will not rise from the ashes of the false starts.
Some days I feel as though my ignition is stuttering, my engine cranking but not turning over enough to get going. It could be that my tank is full of additives and needs some real fuel. Could be that the engine didn’t get enough garage time in the last few nights. Whatever it may be, pushing the chassis up the hill and out onto the highway seems daunting.
Here is where the false starts have to end . . . a running leap through the symbolic 01/01/15 might do the trick. Fingers crossed.
I have a sister named Phoebe who has been called Bird for much of her life. There is some inner family secret about the origin of this nickname, having to do with Oiseau > Bird > Dudie. But these are are foibles of siblings and need not be explained here. Ironically, we Steins have an actual Bird in our family> Bird Stein Gans. Bird Stein was quite a woman in her own right, and as you can see from her photo here, she seems to have been a strong, handsome, forthright person. A person to be respected.