some days

Some days must be met
mouth open, gasped
to swallow a heat
that stains mouths shameless.

Dizzy on sweet, aimless
as bees tasting turned nectar
we circle the day.  This is the dance.
We know it, choreographed
not in steps but hours,
a reel of afternoons
greened under fingernails
no soap can wash off
these hands, made to stay dirty,
to pull up this full bitten into ripe

by the roots.

***less a poem, more of a passing thought.

About Susan L Daniels

I am a firm believer that politics are personal, that faith is expressed through action, and that life is something that must be loved and lived authentically--or why bother with any of it?
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28 Responses to some days

  1. Meaningful to me, Susan. Thank you for this one.

  2. davidtrudel says:

    Good to have you back and yes its a poem. Big time.

  3. welcome back – your passing thoughts are poetry indeed

  4. Rhonda says:

    She’s baaack. 🙂 Our garden girl. Beautiful, and familiar images.

  5. George Ellington says:

    My goodness, Susan, if this is just a passing thought, I wish my thoughts passed so eloquently. So happy to see you here again. I was wondering what happened to you.

    • George, you have made me smile. Thank you. No big trauma here–just children out of school for the summer, shouldering away the poetry to get their share of attention, as they should. They’re bored with me now, though, and hanging out outside with their friends.

      • George Ellington says:

        Ahhh, children. I know when my daughter smiles and laughs in my company, she is expressing her sincere pleasure with life. And I also know that it won’t take too long before she wishes she had someone a bit younger and cooler to play with. And while it took me a few years to adjust to this, I have finally come to accept and expect it. And to appreciate the smiles and the laughter that much more.

  6. BroadBlogs says:

    Glad you’re back Susan. We missed you.

    re “less a poem, more of a passing thought”

    I can’t remember the name of the poet but she was in Chile during Pinochet’s reign and when she interviewed him she just jotted down notes about things she had seen. Severed ears and what not. And then she accidentally put those notes in a pile of poems that she sent to a publisher. The publisher told her that those notes were the best poem! It’s a famous poem. Maybe you know it. I can’t recall its name right now.

  7. I’ve missed you beautiful ~ I caught a sort of a hesitation and maple-sloppy feel in writing this. I loved the swallowing of the gospel ~ Blessings friend ~Debbie

  8. nelle says:

    Always love your out of doors explorations.

  9. Alice Keys says:

    Lovely “passing thought”, Susan. I wondered when I’d hear from you again. I figured you were in the garden. 🙂

  10. *Looks at hands, string and moment beads*

  11. brian miller says:

    smiles…thought of you the other day and wondered where you were…i like the green under nail and dirty hands…that last bit makes me think of taking life to the full

  12. Lindy Lee says:

    What poems are but passing thoughts…

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