Writing by wide windows, I
can see the earth and sky,
birds and deer catch my eye.
In spring, blossom flutters in the trees
and the scent of honeysuckle
drifts on the breeze.
The cat and I watch autumn leaves
and winter snowflakes fall,
a spider build a cobweb
and a snail
leave a silvery trail
on the footpath and the wall.
I might seem too distracted
by what’s happening outside:
like tiny birds outside my window
until I reach out my finger
and invite them inside.
Kim M. Russell, 28th October 2018
My response to Imaginary Garden with Real Toads: Don’t Touch My Meez
Toni has thrown us the gauntlet this week with an interesting challenge, mise en place, which was inspired by her years of experience working in restaurant kitchens. She says that she learned a very important lesson: everything in its place.
Toni would like to know what our workplaces look like at home: where do we write our poetry? Poems can be any length or form but must contain the scents, the sights, the music, the cat or the dog in close proximity, the kids interrupting our flow of thought, our thoughts over the first cup of coffee in the morning or the last cup of tea at night. Toni doesn’t want to know the why; she wants to know the where.