Full Birth Moon

 The Full Birth Moon rises around sunset Saturday February 27. The day after Mimi's birthday, ha! We are not talking age here, just a time to celebrate!

A short while after our last FMA, the Full Black Drink Moon, I received a note from my buddy David Lee, as I often do, with this attached. The attachment gave me hope, David seemed to be coming out of the sump he had sunk quietly into. His note said that this piece was unpublished and for his friends eyes only. I really like it and asked if I could use it as a lead-in piece for this FMA. David said he thought that would be OK. Enjoy!


from not buttermilk but scalded milk sky

      a splendid sun

      spangles the cobwebs

                                                sharpens

      maple leaves to shards

      of fragmented light


      the world released from darkness

                                                             by

      the unbattening breakthrough

      of dewglow

      sudden scent of brightness


      as if

      all the other senses

      had pulled in and

      stored every unused energy

                                                   scintilla


      until the sharp light

                                      broke

      through their bondage

      and now braided with

      wowsling sounds of morning


      like night creatures

      or small winds

                              moving

      through brambles on their way home

      to warm nests

                                                                   Seaside, Oregon

                                                                   20 January 2021



In response to a "Lamipofri" (LAst MInute of a POetry FRIday) challenge by a poet buddy Kat Apel, Margaret posted a photo "February Morning by Margaret Simon" of the fine dawn in her world this morning then penned this Lamipofri "a poetry snapshot quickly scribed".

A single moment
sky beckons
softness of a peach

A day begins
click,
capture,
send.

Margaret Simon, draft

Go Margaret! Thank you... 

Last round of FMA we discussed the Black Drink of the Atakapa, a strong tea made from the native shrubby tree Ilex vomitoria or Yaupon. A strong version would cleanse your digestive tract if you know what I mean. 

A normal infusion of roasted leaves of Yaupon is a pleasant brew, gold in color, sweet smelling and tasting of the smell of Yaupon. It contains caffeine and some claim that it clears the sinuses and improves hearing

I received my second vaccine injection Tuesday 2-23-21 and made sure I drank Yaupon tea the next two days. Other than a sore injection site I had not reaction to the vaccine, now dog, I know what you are thinking, yes, I am still deaf.

The Atakapas or properly known as the Atakapa Ishak. Lived from Madagora Bay in Texas (Sunset people) to Vermilion Bay in Louisiana Sunrise People) along the N Gulf coast to several weeks walk north of Vermilion Bay and one week walk north of Madagora Bay. Self-described peaceful shy folk. Often referred to as Creole or Creole Indian.

The Choctaw referred to the Atakapa in a derogatory way to the Spanish explorers as man-eaters. Somethings never change y'all.


1-30-21 Received text from the Prairiedog today he said it 59 in Grand Junction, CO, wowser dog, git outer there! She gonna blow any day now.

2-7-21 We woke to an absolutely perfect day after a period of cloudy junk. Red Shoulder Hawk missing since early last week, I miss her.

2-9-21 78 degrees, Red Shoulder is back in my world, YAY! I just recharged my HB feeders when I was almost run over by a Rufus HB tying to lick good stuff out of an Albutilon "Popsicle" then into a big evergreen holly to warm up.

The other day I "found" this book of poetry by Charles Bukowski. Really not sure how of it's origins. One of his poems spoke to me:

this kind of fire


sometimes I think the gods

deliberately keep pushing me

into the fire

just to hear me

yelp

a few good

lines.


they just aren't gong to 

let me retire

silk scarf about neck

giving lectures at

Yale.


the gods need me to

entertain them.


they must be terribly

bored with all

the others


and I am too.


and now my cigarette lighter

has gone dry.

I sit here

hopelessly flicking it.


this kind of fire

they can't give 

me.


2-14-21 Happy Valentine day y'all. P and I put together a wonderful shrimp, crab, okra, sausage and crab claw gumbo. OK dog, yes, I helped P put it together, I was the choppin poppa. Perfect gumbo weather y'all.

Rachel's fam came over with potato salad, Amy with dessert. Joe was working. Oh my! we ate our fill and then had leftovers for a week. So fine. We celebrated Mimi's birthday early with cake and ice cream, yum.

Fixing to get really really cold. Everyone scattered for their homes ahead of the ice! We had fun y'all.

2-16-21 Mardi Gras, really cold but the sunshine is happening and just seems to make everyone feel better. Power out for 12 hours, not bad at all. Same for water. As I fed birds, released the gurls I spotted the same Rufus HB rocketing around my yard.


Winter Homes

My goldfish are finding

winter homes under slabs 

in the pond


mother goldfish birthed 

and hid four babies 

this summer


they were not eaten

by birds

or their fathers


the heater is on


it's my contribution 

to Mother Nature


I have aired my quilts

and washed my blankets


I will cuddle 

with my dog

a good book and with any luck

a cup

of Frontier Soup


finding 

my winter home

                           -Nikki Giovanni


2-18, 19- 21 Back in school, giving exams online. Interesting with all the power out in Texas and N. Louisiana.


From Margaret:

Today's prompt is to write fast. 2-18-21

Capture a shadow, dance with the wind, stand in a rainbow, begin at the end.

Mary Anne Radmacher

Fun!


More Margaret:

I am taking a creative-inducing drug called A-Poem-a-Day. It's good for me. But it doesn't always make me happy. Poetry is a place where emotions become raw. This week I heard of another community member's death from Covid. He was 75 and battled for months. His family was dedicated, by his side, and hopeful until they couldn't be. I don't know this kind of loss. I'm a lucky one, and sometimes that makes me feel guilty. 

Note: I mourn his death as well Margaret.

Heather Meloche posted the prompt "lungs" with a profound graffiti art piece "I can't breathe". Not only do I wish I could breathe for those who can't, I also wish I could take away the pain of loss. This empathy came out in my poem. 

Misty morning 

fills my lungs 

with living. 


On this day 

I pray for air, 

a way to not care 

people are drowning. 


They can’t breathe. 

A machine breathes for them. 


I wish for a way 

like roots of trees 

breathe together underground, 


a way 

to pass 

hand to hand 

lung to lung 


Health 

Healing 

Hearty 

life. 


Margaret Simon, draft

2-22-21 Back at school full blast in this household.

2-26-21 P's birthday today. No mention of age so do not ask. Lots of family and friends best wishes. Smile


peace love possumhugs

BT

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