The twelve Days of Christmas (Abbrv)


The twelfth day of Christmas
My true love sent to me




Five go-old rings



...in a pear
treeeeee

PROSE OR POETRY



An insight by Howard Nemerov ...



Because You Asked About the Line
Between Prose and Poetry


Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle
That while you watched turned into pieces of snow
Riding a gradient invisible
From silver aslant to random, white, and slow.

There came a moment that you couldn't tell.
And then they clearly flew instead of fell.







-

marriage


Once you've felt the force of life's
tsunamis, stood at the edge
of its unknown distances,
you need someone
boating around, out in the bay -
with a deep keel
and a life belt.




*


HABITATION
(By Margaret Atwood)


Marriage is not
a house or even a tent

it is before that, and colder:

the edge of the forest, the edge
of the desert

the unpainted stairs

at the back where we squat
outside, eating popcorn

the edge of the receding glacier

where painfully and with wonder
at having survived
this far

we are learning to make fire