Lessons
by Pat Schneider
I have learned
that life goes on,
or doesn't.
That days are measured out
in tiny increments
as a woman in a kitchen
measures teaspoons
of cinnamon, vanilla,
or half a cup of sugar
into a bowl.
I have learned
that moments are as precious as nutmeg,
and it has occurred to me
that busy interruptions
are like tiny grain moths,
or mice.
They nibble, pee, and poop,
or make their little worms and webs
until you have to throw out the good stuff
with the bad.
It took two deaths
and coming close myself
for me to learn
that there is not an infinite supply
of good things in the pantry.
"Lessons" by Pat Schneider from Another River: New and Selected Poems. © Amherst Writers and Artists Press, 2005
Monday, November 3, 2008
Lessons
Posted by Judith Shapiro at 9:59 AM
Labels: Aging, Creativity, death, Poetry
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Thanks for this poem. I'll spend a little more time today noticing.
Post a Comment