All At The Same Time 1995

     All At The Same Time

I like to start the day with coffee:

Half black power, half au lait,

Turn on the Beeb, begin a poem.

Taking down a favorite tome-

A little read – I clean the bedroom,

Roam downstairs and get involved.

The menu solved, I wipe the floor

Then jump-rump to piano where

I sit, playing a tune or four.

Go back and start a bread. Then yoga

In a toga or a sweat suit,

Standing on one foot I eat a fruit

Then fetch the radio and go outside

To clip a hedge

And while in motion find I dredge

A title, line, a word or two

From deep within the conscious. Whew!

I saunter back because I’m haunted

By the drive to write it up,

So then, undaunted, drink another cup

(I know it’s bad) of caffeined brew.

(It’s such a pleasant thing to do).

Then turning art toward starting lunch,

Poetic hunch aside, I stretch –

A bit more yoga. Oh, the post:

Walk up the road –four hundred meters.

Smell the air. What could be sweeter?

Well, that’s taken care of most.

It’s flame October, mushrooms wanting to be picked.

I’ve time to rove o’er hill and ditch, bog and moss.

I’ve no success.

Through trudge and brook and mushroom book

I know no longer where to look

And bear my bucket home again, no worse for wear,

Free from care, lungs filled with air.

Resuming chores, my song, my rhyme,

My coffee, yoga – ah, it’s time

To greet my husband, feed the cat,

Giving all my warmth to that.

Feeding husband, cat and me – triple-sided chat for three –

I fall from grace and watch TV

Awhile, then go to bed and read –

Perchance to sleep, to dream – or maybe

Stand ten minutes on my head,

Tell God I want to do His will,

And then at twelve, lie quite, quite still.

©All At The Same Time 95.10.31

Circling Round Nature; Circling Round Woman; Our Times, Our Culture; Coffee Book;

Arlene Corwin

 

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