Outside The Lines, A literary column

Feb 5, 2015 by Marcia Diane

Some of the things I got for the holiday; the new volume of poetry by Mary Oliver

Blue Horses that I featured last time and a second volume of poetry by my friend who I introduced in the December column, Joy Alesdatter, With A Thousand Soft Breaths. And as if that were not enough, a copy of her first novel, bound, beautifully illustrated and self-published, Kate. We are looking here at two of the most persistent and determined women I know and aren’t we the lucky recipients. Both have been gravely ill with the big C (they reference this in their volumes, so it seems alright to share). Both underwent rigorous treatment regimens and still produced their work.

Quite frankly I am humbled. That I have featured them both before for me is but a continuum of what I hope to bring here…brilliant work by amazing poets and authors for our enrichment.

That these women can also stand as ordinary sentinels for the rest of us in this thing called life is for me a big bonus.

Mary, in Blue Horses, continues her observations of nature and the nature of being human…with a sweet surprise midway through of sharing with us her new love, at 79. Oh my, perhaps then it is never too late to renew passion:

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

I WOKE

I woke

and crept

like a cat

on silent feet

about my own house-

to look

at you

while you were sleeping,

your hair

sprayed on the pillow,

your eyes

closed,

your body

safe and solitary,

and my doors

shut for your safety

and your comfort,

I did this

thinking I was intruding,

yet wanting to see

the most beautiful thing

that has ever been in my house.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

And from Joy from her northern New Mexico home:

…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Poet

Every town needs a poet

This town

full of brown people

and white

We live by the river together

We listen to the water

and the crows and the heron

We hate one another

And fight

We feel the heat

in the stone

admiring melting adobes

listen to the wind

in the blazing cottonwood

We love one another

and forgive

We dig the same dirt

fed by the river

for years.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Join us won’t you in our on-line writing group at m.diane.writeon@gmail.com and share together your courage, your creativity, your persistence.

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