No, Christina Rossetti (1830 -1894), I cannot agree
that life so dark and heavy every day must be.
It cannot be so —
No! No! and No!
If I thought your grim words were true,
deeply cutting, killing, through and through,
I would force my last breath to loudly employ
my lungs to expunge every ounce of pure joy
into a shrill, startling scream to God’s highest Heaven
for angels to gather the honey, flour, and leaven…
all sweetness, all goodness, everything light,
refashioning the world to wondrous and bright;
replacing all calloused, scarred, torn hearts
with sweet sugared, tasty, delicate tarts,
and insisting each person consume their fair share,
’til only loud laughter and love dwell there.
(after a lunch of Turkey Tetrazzini and fifteen minutes reading Christina Rosetti’s (1830 -1894) Goblin Market and Other Poems…I tire of misery and mouldering death on these bright days of Fall, 2016)
Six big crows gather
above the high school parking,
eyeing burger bags.
(…seen on the drive home from King Soopers 12:00PM 9/15/16)
five inch peppered plates
brighten my late summer lunch
along with fresh chives