Flowers and Poetry
Is everyone having a nice weekend? I’ve been doing a little yard work — the annual War with the Leaves has begun for 2010. We’re just getting started and I bagged as many as I could for today. It’s SO dry outside, I’m now covered with dust. Crossing fingers for rain tomorrow!
While I was outside, I cut a few hydrangeas and hung them on our back porch door. They’re not nearly as pretty (or as prolific) as they were last year, but they’re still nice.
Since all I have is yard work, I thought I’d mention a few other things. Yvestown wrote an interesting post about twitter and facebook and all points in between. I found myself nodding my head in a vertical manner a lot while reading.
And a few weeks ago, a coworker sent me a link to a video of a 3-year old little boy reciting a “Litany” by Billy Collins on youtube. (Have I mentioned this before? Forgive me if I did — I can’t remember anything anymore. Yesterday morning, I prepared a beautiful sweet and sour chicken meal for the crockpot and then left for work without plugging it in. Grrrr!) Anyway, I LOVE Billy Collins — and this poem too. This little guy is super cute.
(Hmmm, I tried to embed the code, but it says it’s been disabled by request — you can see the video HERE.)
Here’s the poem if you’d like to read along:
Litany
You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.
However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.
It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general’s head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.
And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.
It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.
I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.
I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman’s tea cup.
But don’t worry, I’m not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and–somehow–the wine.
–Billy Collins
So…see if you can top that this weekend! {winky}{wink}
XOXO,
Anna
