Nov 2, 2018 Original Poetry
The Dark Comes Quickly
©November 2nd, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
The dark comes quickly,
A spy hurrying down an alley
Hood drawn, willing himself into invisibility.
The dark comes quickly,
An assassin with undefined intent,
Bringing sadness, an unclear threat.
If Autumn comes with uncertain step,
Winter treads on her heels, a bully,
Bringing with him the threat of death.
But I malign Winter, for he,
Old and frosty though he might be,
Brings snow too, and there is magic there.
Life is full of light and song,
But it extracts strength,
And weaves dreams full of sweetness
When one should be practical.
Death has its sweetness, too, though.
The work of living exhausts me.
Spent trees drop leaves.
Plants give up the ghost.
Winter covers the land.
Only we toil on – for that’s all we know.
The dark comes on suddenly,
A shroud that settles on us.
I do not fear it, not anymore.
It is an old friend, now, this assassin.
I even welcome the sadness it brings.
Everything passes, even these rising
Waters, this feeling of being lost,
This vague fear of the uncertainty
Looming over all.
I should worry. I should mourn.
But everything passes, and
Strangely, this comforts me.
_____________________________________
Nov 2, 2018 Original Poetry
Potato-Eyed
©November 2nd, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
I was mundane today.
Elbow-deep in dirt,
Back aching from stooping,
Lifting, carrying, dumping
Rich, dark dirt onto beds,
I felt around the potato sacks
Scrabbling and unearthing
Small, stubborn, little potatoes,
Unwilling to leave their dark womb.
All that work in the late, late spring –
All that blending of soil and compost,
Manure and more, all that toil
In sun, sweating and singing –
And THIS is what I reaped:
A colander-full of small, yellow
Stubborn potatoes!
Where are the larger yellow tubers
Of yesteryear?!
Where, indeed?
(And last year wasn’t great, either,
But still …)
I tell myself:
I will never be a farmer, not a good one!
But then, there is a small thrill
Within, a voice full of pride:
Those are my potatoes, mine!
If harvesting these hurt my back,
It’s honest work.
Next year, I’ll do better.
I shall plan, plant, stay focused.
My potatoes will be jewels,
Full of rich earthiness,
Full of goodness.
My potatoes will join my beans,
In timeliness and intent,
All planted early, carefully,
Without dilly-dallying,
And I will not wander off into dreams.
The earth will have my attention
And I will do all my research
And not let other voices call to me.
I will plant myself firmly
And see everything, everywhere
At once, my eyes growing roots.
And my potatoes will form,
Bunching together, ready to die
For my pleasure.
_________________________________
Nov 2, 2018 Original Poetry
Dog-Salon
©November 2nd, 2018
By Vijaya Sundaram
Freshly coiffed, and pretty as a poodle-dream,
The dog returns home from the Salon,
Traumatized and defeated by dog-shampoo,
Clippers and razor. All trace of dog is gone.
I am unhappy for her, but she is neat now,
And winter will not be hellish on her hair.
When I picked her up at the place,
She stood there, in a nightmare
Canine vortex. Cross, Yapping Small Dogs
Surged around the feet of the groomers,
While my Dignified and Thoughtful Girl
Stood with tail at half-mast, trying
Not to drown in the rising tide of
Cross Little Dogs, shrilly shouting
Curses at an indifferent universe.
Desperate, eager to be rescued, Holly
Squeaked in barely held-in distress.
The groomers, matter-of-fact,
Kind, but blank, accepted my payment,
And went on with their patient shearing.
I looked over the separating counter.
A Fatalistic Lab was up on a pedestal,
Being shorn. My dog still behind
Their half-door gazed up at me,
Mute appeal in her now-visible eyes.
Several nameless Cross Little Dogs
Yelled imprecations at me and mine.
We paid them no heed, she and I.
Collar and leash back on,
She emerged, and leapt at me
Again and again, letting me know
What she had endured.
I took her home, fed her richly, watered her,
Gave her treats, whispered soothing words,
Told her I loved her, made much of her.
She slept after that, exhausted.
Being made pretty can do one in.
____________________________________________