Poetic Bones
Congratulations, Molly, on winning that prize!!! Kudos to you!
Sorry I’ve been lost in cyberspace for so long. I haven’t had much to report: one illness after another has felled either me or members of my family for months on end, and although I’ve been trying really hard to find something poetic to say about gastroenteritis (my latest malady, following on the heels of the bronchitis and the back pain), I’m just not quite finding the words….. (I could hear that sigh of relief from across the Atlantic! 
But here’s a tidbit from my four year old, who normally is not very verbal. Yesterday he told us with great seriousness, “I know why foxes like birds. It’s because under the skin, they’re chickens.”
And just the other day he told me, happily, “Mommy, the moon is dancing and my head is dancing.”
Maybe he’s got a poetic bone in his body after all.
Which makes me think of a line from a kid’s song on a folk music album we’ve been listening to lately… “Man is made of dreams and bones.” Well, women too, of course. I just love that line.
Lisa
PS: re tatoos: The best compliment I ever got on my poetry was when I learned that someone I knew had been to a writing workshop where one of the participants had a line of my poetry tatooed on her wrist!
Lisa! I have always thought foxes were chickens, your son has got it. And what an incredible compliment to have someone use your words as a tattoo! I’ve seen a tattoo of part of Mary Oliver’s Wild Geese, but not anything else. And on her wrist where she can see it all the time! Way, way cool.
xo
PS thank you for the absence of poetic revelations about gastroenteritis
Comment by Molly — February 6, 2007 @ 10:52 pm