A Nice Poem

[young_werther]

And an apology: I'm sorry I haven't written a thing in weeks, and nothing important in many months. I'm not sure why, but I'll figure it out soon enough. Until then, Jane Kenyon will elaborate on why writing is taxing.

Afternoon in the House

It’s quiet here. The cats
sprawl, each
in a favored place.
the geranium leans this way
to see if I’m writing about her:
head all petals, brown
stalks, and those green fans.
So you see,
I am writing about you.
I turn on the radio. Wrong.
Let’s not have any noise
in this room, except
the sound of a voice reading a poem.
The cats request
The Meadow Mouse, by Theodore Roethke.
The house settles down on its haunches
for a doze.
I know you are with me, plants,
and cats-and even so, I’m frightened,
sitting in the middle of perfect
possibility.

Jane Kenyon