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SUNDAY SOJOURN

Cyndi MacMillan Avatar Cyndi MacMillan - Premium MemberPremium Member Send Soup Mail Go to Poets Blog Block poet from commenting on your poetry

Below is the poem entitled SUNDAY SOJOURN which was written by poet Cyndi MacMillan. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.

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SUNDAY SOJOURN

                                                                                                    July 2000



It’s early morning, Sunday, midsummer. I have the kitchen to myself, and I decide to make an omelet from the brown eggs and farmer's cheese that I bought at the market, yesterday. The house is still, save for the sound of the fans and the occasional squeak of a floor board. I consider turning on the radio, but change my mind. How often do I allow myself silence? 

Tea is steeping, a blend called Nile Pearls, and the aroma of pineapple fails to overshadow the black currant. I’m still in my nightshirt. Day can wait. The view from my window makes me smile for my herb garden has gone quite riotous.  I decide to make my simple dish more flavorful. 

Pushing open the screen door, I pause, stretch and lift my face to the sun. The thermometer is sure to climb over 30 today but, right now, it is comfortable. Stepping off the deck, my toes are grateful for the coolness of the grass, the absence of tight shoes, those self-imposed feminine trappings.

my clean feet wet with dew – warm breeze
There is a feeling of sanctity, here. My garden is raised, built into a small hill that provides privacy, yet swallows yard space. I pause to sniff the lavender, let the week dissolve into soft, purple splendor. Pointless, really, to even try to ignore the rhubarb. It is a tyrant, defying borders, refusing to compromise its position. Enormous leaves rustle and I grin as a chipmunk streaks for the cedar hedge. I close in on the herbs, consider my options and snap off several long, verdant spikes. Close to fields, we have had our share of visitors, small frogs, grass snakes, rabbits, red tailed hawks, the occasional raccoon. Nature is taking back the encroachment of suburbia. I rip off a mint leaf, finger its fur and a movement catches my eye.
through thyme a snail inches towards my sundial
There is no artifice in dawdling. Often, I think that my small plot of land is enough for me. No adventure to the far East, no sabbitical on a windswept isle off the coast of Wales. Pleasure, riches, surround me. Perhaps, I will never see the Louvre, but then, in small ways, the Louvre visits my plain home.
a spider's web and my clothesline tangled
The neighbours tolerate my brown thumb, our patchy lawn and my horrid bird calls. They have witnessed the earth under my fingernails, encrusted knees , those afternoons I spent coddling seedlings. One keeps gifting me surgical gloves, a nurse who fights weeds with an antiseptic resolve. The gloves pile in a drawer, unused. I gaze at my roses, notice the gnawed growth, wonder who thinks them delicious. Smart wee beastie. The street is stirring, and my sojourn will end, soon.
the widow next door refills her new bird bath - empty nest
I search for a cloud, find one so far away that it appears otherworldly. Peat and black soil perfume the air. Inhaling, I accept a gentle invasion, a piercing that brings a deep sense of purpose and peace. For just one moment, I feel that I am not walking the earth at all, but that somehow, as impossible as it seems, the Earth just began to move within me. *written May 2013. I miss my herb garden!

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  1. Date: 5/15/2013 7:23:00 AM
    Cyndi - I am glued to your words original and poetic as any could be. You are an artist and how lucky I am to read this work of perfection. I cannot quote the lines so dear to me, because I would simply copy the entire writing. love you, Kathy

  1. Date: 5/11/2013 10:57:00 PM
    So beautiful and fitting. Many congrats for this super win Cyndi.

  1. Date: 5/11/2013 4:31:00 PM
    You NEVER fail to 'kick out the jambs!' So glad you let me read this gem. Congrad's Light & Love

  1. Date: 5/11/2013 9:29:00 AM
    I could continue to read more and more of this narrative! Just beautifully descriptions in every line! I'm there.........with you! Congratulations!

  1. Date: 5/11/2013 8:06:00 AM
    An awesome haibun, Cyndi, it draws you in as you take a peek and you come out of it polished and refined. Congrats on your top placement!! Jag

  1. Date: 5/10/2013 10:33:00 PM
    This is absolutely fantastic! It/you deserve to be the winner. Congratulations... Jack

  1. Date: 5/10/2013 9:18:00 PM
    I've never read a poem like this before...it is magical...congratulations

  1. Date: 5/6/2013 1:28:00 PM
    Soup Mail

  1. Date: 5/5/2013 2:13:00 PM
    .

    Grisetti Avatar Joann Grisetti
    Date: 5/5/2013 2:13:00 PM Block poet from commenting on your poetry


    I tried to enter a rating without a comment and it would ot allow me to. re: Frank's blog.
  1. Date: 5/5/2013 12:38:00 PM
    a haibun so well fed with images that take me from the expected to the unexpected .. there is no thing as " outside of the box"; THERE IS NO BOX!... you are a garden of verses.. i like " Earth just began to move within me."... and thanks for your keen eyes; i took a secon look at my piece... huggs and love, my cyn!..:)

  1. Date: 5/5/2013 11:07:00 AM
    Wonderful haibun, Cyndi. Excellent imagery used , and you have a way of moving the reader through the story with you. Wonderful stuff here! hey! have you had an opportunity to look at my crown of sonnets? The subject may bore you, but a writer has to come up with a lot of stuff t write a crown of sonnets...I think. hugs, catie :)