#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

. . . .

can grief be made to eat and faults
to persuade of sugar in the room

what poor planet for you by half a-melt
shall I stud with cloves a pomander

to hang in the stars to cure in the closet
of the known infected universe

~ Excerpt from “Attention is Prayer, Curative,” by Jenny Grassl

I felt joyful, grateful, to wake well before 6 a.m. to lengthen my summer day. Frank and I sat on the deck with the birds fluttering to and from the feeder for breakfast. I went for a early swim at Farm Pond, from the beach, where all the serious swimmers from many towns around swim before the official opening. By 7 I was in the warm calm of the lake doing laps under a blue sky, my favorite summer place, immersed. Then I walked home in summer sunshine, into the greenly, spectacularly lit woods, past the white-white wild azaleas and the fragrant blooming milkweed. Then, I watered the gardens and was indoors in plenty of time for my Thursday morning poetry workshop. The poem I wrote Tuesday was very well received, and I was pleased and surprised, as it’s so freshly written. But, not really. I’ve been writing this poem in my head and heart for decades, really. It’s the only poem I’ve ever written about practicing psychotherapy in my private practice, years ago. I’m still thinking about the origin of the poem: whose story is it, who has a right to tell it? It took place decades ago, and it was, in my mind, a shared experienced, a worthy one to write about. I’m still thinking it through, but I’m very grateful to have written a powerful poem that seems to reach people on a topic that matters a lot. I am so fortunate to write with such talented poets, including my friend Jenny Grassl, whose poem I quote above, which was originally published in The Iowa Review, and just republished in Mass. Poetry blog. After my workshop, I led the open mic for IWWG, featuring the novelist Lisa Ann Braxton and her book, The Talking Drum and it was a lovely reading and conversation and open mic; so many voices, women’s voices, truly, from around the world. And then I closed my computer, turned off the office light, and went out into the bright sunshine and birdsong and my girls and a friend with her puppy and played.