“Any given poem is, for me, an attempt to know more largely and intimately whatever condition of being I am in at that moment. Each poem is the comprehension and provisional resolution of a particular question. We find ourselves off-balance, and the poem attempts to recapture balance, or more truthfully, to spring forward into some new balance that will itself remain momentary and provisional.”
~ Jane Hirshfield

On my walk I’m thinking about what I will read for my five minutes at the Boston Poetry Marathon in the afternoon. I walk over the trestle bridge into the meadow, thick with wildflowers. And sunshine. The household is busy when I return. I have to run to the supermarket. There are many distractions, and I finally get to my desk to prepare. And, then they come looking for me again. I am happy this household comes looking for me, wants to know where I am and tell me their tales and check in. Finally, I get some focused time, and select three new summer poems. Strange, to be indoors, on Zoom, on this beautiful summer day choosing poems about summer to read! But I’m happy the marathon continues for the second year on Zoom. Next year, perhaps, in person, in the city, again. It’s nice to gather in Boston for this event, and go out for dinner after with poetry friends. My cohort of poets for my hours are wonderful. We are streaming live, but only those of us who are reading are in Zoom together. Here is the link to my hour. I’m fifth in the line-up, I think. When our hour is up, I jump off the Zoom and hop on my bike and ride to my friend’s dock and dive in to the late afternoon pond, there are many stand up paddlers, and I swim to the pump house and back in the soft sunshine. Then I ride home, the leafy streets, feeling quite satisfied to have gotten my poetry and my swim in on this August afternoon. Then, lovely summer dinner outdoors with dear friends. Frank leaves in the a.m.