A Leap Day Poem

  Here’s a poem by Jane Hirschfield: February 29 An extra day— Like the painting’s fifth cow, who looks out directly, straight toward you, from inside her black and white spots. An extra day— Accidental, surely: the made calendar stumbling over the real as a drunk trips over a threshold too low to see. An

Memories of Paris, 2018

  Two years ago at this time, I was in Paris for a wonderful month.  The weather was cold and dreary, but still it was wonderful. It plays in my memory , over and over.  I may never get back there,  but I still hold out the hope.  And I still have the memories of

Coronavirus

From an article in the New Yorker today: Coronavirus claimed its first victims in China, and the illness has now appeared in at least forty-eight countries, with cases soaring in Europe and the Middle East. On Wednesday, in response to criticism about his Administration’s response, President Trump held a press conference addressing the epidemic. His

Ash Wednesday

This poem by Tennyson is a poem to welcome February, but I’m using it to welcome Lent.  For me, Lent means Spring.     “From December to March, there are for many of us three gardens: the garden outdoors, the garden of pots and bowls in the house, and the garden of the mind’s eye.”

One More Hymn to the Sun

Dawn at Poverty Beach, Cape May NJ Just this morning, I learned that a favorite poet of mine, Lisel Mueller, has died. She was 96.  Here is one of my favorite poems of hers:   One More Hymn to the Sun by Lisel Mueller You know that like an ideal mother she will never leave you, though

February made me shiver…

Does anyone else remember that song? One bright spot was a parody of that song, bashing Trump.  I’ll paste the link from YouTube, hoping you can watch it.  It’s worth watching! Remember that refrain:  Vote for anyone but this guy This has been a very long February, and still a week to go. Depression over

On Valentines Day

  Happy Valentine’s Day! Here’s a lovely, if unique, love poem  by Craig Arnold: Bird-Understander Of many reasons I love you here is one the way you write me from the gate at the airport so I can tell you everything will be alright so you can tell me there is a bird trapped in

Time to eat fat and watch hockey

  Here’s a wonderful poem by Margaret Atwood:   February BY MARGARET ATWOOD Winter. Time to eat fat and watch hockey. In the pewter mornings, the cat, a black fur sausage with yellow Houdini eyes, jumps up on the bed and tries to get onto my head. It’s his way of telling whether or not I’m

February 1, Saint Brigid’s Day

Saint Brigid, patron of dairy farmers   ( artist unknown)   Brigid was honored before Christianity came to Ireland. I’m quoting from a blog from the Anam Cara Retreat Center: Welcome to Imbolc, the season of change and transformation– sometimes all in the course of one day… …On the Celtic calendar, February 1 is the beginning