This is January. Here we all are on the cusp of a new year. Catherine Flynn, fellow Inkling, challenged our group to write a poem with “This is January” as a title. I guess you could say the prompt has been in my mind since she posed it, but the words of a poem only appeared on my notebook page today. I took it on as a kind of list poem.
This is January
I open the door
to let the dog out
shiver from the cold.
A quiet hope whispers
in a voice
I recognize.
I keep dreaming
about children playing.
Awake now, I’m still humming.
Amaryllis grows
an inch each day
expectant red blossom.
Carolina wren fusses
calling to me
to be my first new year bird.
Cypress trees are bare, brown.
Their shade is not needed
resting, waiting.
My husband remarks,
”If there was a need
for cypress needles, we’d
be rich.”
We are rich, I think,
to be here
loving and living
each day.
Even in January…
Margaret Simon, draft
Here is how other Inklings answered the prompt:
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Mary Lee @A(nother) Year of Reading
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Catherine @Reading to the Core
Reflections on the Teche 