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Praise of Wasting Time and Not Writing

Because other things need to happen.

I look out the window on the housing complex and notice

The cardinals have upset the bird feeder again.

Oily black sunflower seeds darken a pot of topsoil

And something is moving in the compost bin.

A brown animal with soft fur. I remember now that movie

The Rats of Nimh, and decide to name this creature

Mrs. Brisbee. Now I need to talk to the cat,

To tell her to ignore her instincts, and then throw her

A ball of string, so I can open the door and slip out

To transplant the flowers. In the pot something I thought

Was a weed turns out to be a sunflower, taking root in the hard soil,

And I will need to transplant her too.

Tell her she is a beautiful sunflower and strong

Enough to survive this callous heat wave we are having,

While I sing her a song of water. No,

Now is not the time to write, but to keep things moving.

These are the unintended consequences of my small,

Impetuous actions, and the lives

I will accidentally fall in love

With and continue to feed.

(I originally wrote this as a "you" poem, i.e. "sometimes you stop writing and you notice..." I'm not sure if that was working better."

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“Sing her a song of water” is my favorite ❤️ but so many good lines! …the time “to keep things moving.” I feel most this way on the hottest days of summer. It’s a full effort just to get things in motion! (Currently in the middle of one of those days.)

I like it as an “I” poem but I think it could work either way.

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This morning I woke up to an art market / all-day festival happening right outside my doorstep 😍 The Adventures of Living in a New Place and not knowing what’s coming!! I bought a piece of art that is gorgeously feminine (I buy art so rarely but—why not?) and have been enjoying the festival’s music all day while trying not to do too many of the things I had planned 😉

Yesterday during my usual grocery run I bought myself flowers because they ached to be held and were only 2.99€. The sky, which had held itself back all day, started a downpour just as I reached the store. After shopping, I waited in the foyer and lamented with another lady about the impossibility of such timing.

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"I bought myself flowers because they ached to be held." I just love that!

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☺️☺️☺️ Thank you!

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The magic of reading. Of finding a new poem by a favorite poet. One that you can't stop reading and sharing

https://www.lrb.co.uk/the-paper/v46/n11/a.-e.-stallings/saronic

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Outsized luck and happiness. Opalescent fumes. In awe of this poem. Thanks for sharing it!

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A. E. Stallings is a goddess.

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“The troubled wake of salt” — and so many other good lines. Thanks for sharing!!

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Ya, I immediately thought of this poem when Kelly started this Magic conversation. A. E. Stallings is one of my favorites

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ooosh! That last line totally plays with the concept of time. "one day no one will have seen." It's haunting.

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