Cataloging the Day

It's Autumn here in the Northeast. I go outside about three times a day now, sit and watch the trees—the sunrise or sunset or clouds playing at their edges. Sometimes I write a little poetry. This one is about 1/3 catalog-technique. Which is to say, it only has two lines of cataloging.

Sometimes Christians feel they should only catalog the bright side of life. You have probably noticed... I am not that kind of Christian...


has stolen the lilies,
and I am here
touching bronze broken stalks
where pollen-heavy flowers
bent. The air is dry,
the leaves are dry—
so too, a tiny piece
of my heart.

Check out the invitation to write a catalog poem, at TheHighCalling.org.

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Blogger Maureen said...

Nor am I, and so recognize the kindred spirit.

The visual imagery here that works up to those last lines... not just seen but felt.

I wrote two poems today that I'll post Monday and Tuesday. "Contingency Plans" also showed up in the mail today; it was my afternoon treat.

Anonymous Sandra Heska King said...

I'm so glad you're you.

Blogger S. Etole said...

Autumn does that to us, doesn't it?

Anonymous Monica Sharman said...

This reminds me a little of my fear of grief.

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I think that's why autumn is my favorite season--it suits my melancholy side. Your poem is so, so good, L.L. I'm learning a LOT from you and Marcus and Laura and Maureen and all the other poets at HCB.

Blogger Unknown said...

i love this...i love that you have the courage that i don't often have to let the bleak lie and not pick it up to make it something else...i have melancholy though sanguine often overpowers, but i'm needing to embrace it as soon i will make a post-communist, still oppressed place with short days home...


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